


The Big Dipper

by Bears_in_the_sky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Charlie Weasley, Death Eaters, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts, M/M, Quidditch, Quote: Mischief Managed (Harry Potter), The Golden Trio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 84
Words: 360,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24411796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bears_in_the_sky/pseuds/Bears_in_the_sky
Summary: Ursula Black was only two years old when her mother was killed for resisting Voldemort. She is given to her aunt and uncle, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as Voldemort believes they can raise her to be a 'proper' pureblood. But Narcissa Malfoy has other intentions. After Voldemort's downfall, she secretly sends Ursula to live part time with her estranged sister — Andromeda Tonks. As Ursula grows older and the beliefs of one world collide with the pressures of another, will she be forced to choose a side? Or can she combine the person she was raised to be with the person she wants to be? It is a choice she must make on her own — but who's to say a boy with ginger hair and nice eyes isn't worth fighting for?
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 383
Kudos: 356





	1. Chapter 1

All her life, Cassiopeia had been the prettiest Black sister.

With large grey eyes, silky black curls, and a permanent smile, she had been their parents’ favorite. She had been everyone’s favorite. She was the most likeable, the friendliest, and the most optimistic of the four sisters.

The happiest, Narcissa later supposed.

But despite, or perhaps because of, her privileged, even spoiled upbringing, Cassiopeia was the most unpredictable of the sisters.

So when Cassiopeia disappeared, Narcissa didn’t go looking for her. She knew that her sister would find her if she wanted to. And she did.

The next time Narcissa saw her sister, she also met her niece. Narcissa told no one of the meeting, or that her sister was staying with Andromeda, who had been disowned several years prior. She didn’t tell anyone when Cassiopeia took her daughter and moved. She didn’t know how Bellatrix had found her.

Deep down, Narcissa would never forgive Bellatrix for telling Antonin Dolohov, Cassiopeia’s ex-fiancé, where to find her. Not when, after a year of searching, Dolohov found her in Muggle London. Hidden in plain sight.

And when Narcissa was told to enter her sister’s flat and find the child, she knew she would never forget what Bellatrix had done. Not when Cassiopeia had been so brutally murdered.

Narcissa didn’t look at her sister’s body for longer than a glance as she entered the room. She didn’t look at the torn pillows, the smashed mirror, or the blood that covered the room. She didn’t look at the blood that splattered across the walls, the blood that soaked the curtains, and the blood that dripped from the ceiling into a pool on the floor.

She strode over to her sister’s vanity. All of Cassiopeia’s possessions had been broken or knocked onto the floor. Narcissa lifted a strand of pearls from under a pile of smashed picture frames and twisted it between her fingers. Each sister owned an identical pair, gifted to them by their parents. Cassiopeia, while unpredictable, always acted with purpose. If she wasn’t wearing hers when she died, as indicated by the unbroken clasp, then she must have understood, for once in her life, how much danger she was in.

Narcissa turned, tucking the pearls away as her eyes scanned the room for any sign of her niece. While she knew many of the Death Eaters figured, and perhaps expected, that finding the girl would be as hard as finding Cassiopeia had been, Narcissa knew that wasn’t her sister’s style.

Cassiopeia had been found hiding in plain sight, so her daughter would be the same. Narcissa strode over to the wardrobe, opened the door, and found a pair of large grey eyes staring back at her.

“Hello Ursula.”


	2. Daughter of the House of Black

“When your wife finds the girl, Lucius-”

“My Lord.”

Voldemort turned as Narcissa interrupted him, standing in the doorway with Ursula in her arms. The Death Eaters seated at the table all swiveled to look at her.

“This is Ursula, my Lord.”

“Where did your sister hide her?” Asked Voldemort.

“In the closet, my Lord.”

“And there were no protective enchantments? Nothing that would have stopped Dolohov from finding her?” Voldemort turned back to Dolohov, who paled.

“I did not think she would be so foolish as to leave the child unprotected, my Lord,” he said.

“Cassiopeia Black was always foolish,” hissed Voldemort. He returned to staring at Ursula, who stared back at him with her mouth open.

“The only question that remains is what to do with her,” he said quietly. He was close enough that Ursula reached out a tiny baby hand and poked his nose with a chubby finger.

“Nose,” she giggled.

For a moment no one moved. Narcissa inhaled sharply, her grip on Ursula tightening ever so slightly. Voldemort seemed shocked for a moment, before he drew back and laughed softly.

“But of course,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “She is only a child.” He pointed at Lucius. “You and your wife shall raise her.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Lucius.

“Let us hope she is not the failure her mother was.” Lord Voldemort’s voice was soft, but his tone was cold. With those final words, he dismissed Narcissa.

“My Lord,” she said with a bow of her head before swiftly leaving the room. The door swung shut behind her. Narcissa did not wait for her husband before leaving the Rosier estate and heading home to Malfoy Manor, where her own parents were watching her young son, Draco.

“Is this…?” her mother asked the moment Narcissa entered the drawing room.

“Ursula,” said Narcissa, setting her niece gently on the floor. She picked up Draco from his crib. He was so tiny, just a few weeks old and so precious.

“Hello Ursula,” cooed Druella, kneeling down next to her. Ursula stared up at her with large grey eyes. “I’m your grandmother.”

“So this is Cassiopeia’s bastard,” grunted Narcissa’s father, Cygnus disdainfully.

“This is your granddaughter,” corrected Druella, at the same time that Narcissa said, “The Dark Lord wishes for Lucius and I to raise her to be a proper member of the House of Black.”

Cygnus seemed pleased by this, though he refused to hold Ursula. “Your mother and I ought to get going,” he said.

“I’ll come for tea tomorrow,” said Druella, kissing her daughter on both cheeks. “It’s time we found you a suitable nanny.”

With her parents gone, the manor felt very empty, and very quiet. She knew there were plenty of house elves about who could do her bidding, but for her sister Narcissa wanted to do this herself. The first thing she did was summon a house elf to watch Draco, and then she led Ursula upstairs.

There were many rooms in Malfoy Manor, many bedrooms that were empty or now only for storage. Narcissa chose an empty room, with bare, dust covered furniture that hadn’t been touched in years. With a wave of her wand, the dust disappeared. The curtains snapped open, providing a lovely view of the gardens, and the sheet covering the vanity vanished. The mattress on the bed cleaned and repaired itself, and Narcissa conjured fresh sheets and pillows for it. She left the grey walls bare for now. In seconds the room was clean and well lit. Ursula sneezed.

“How about a nap before dinner?” suggested Narcissa, noticing how sleepy she looked. She produced the little stuffed bear Ursula had been holding when she found her in the closet and helped her climb onto the bed. Narcissa tucked Ursula in and impulsively kissed her on the forehead, feeling a strange mixture of grief for her sister and relief.

Soon after she was back downstairs with Draco, Lucius arrived home.

“Where is she?” His voice was tired, but he ran a thumb over Draco’s head and smiled at him.

“Upstairs,” she replied. “In the princess suite. I thought she should have a nap.”

“So… what do we do with her?”

“I’m not giving up the only part of my sister left,” said Narcissa softly, though her tone was not lacking in fierceness.

“No, no, I wasn’t suggesting… I only meant, how do we raise her? When Draco is older, I mean,” said Lucius.

“As his cousin, I suppose. How else? We’ll raise her… correctly.”

“Correctly,” repeated Lucius in agreement.

“A proper daughter of the House of Black,” said Narcissa, and that was the end of the conversation. Their attention was drawn back to Draco, and upstairs Ursula clutched her little stuffed bear and fell asleep for the first time in her home.


	3. Toujours Pur

Voldemort’s reign ended when Ursula was three, just a year and a half after the Malfoys had taken her in. In the aftermath, many innocent people were released, having been under the Imperius curse, and many of those less innocent claimed the same to avoid Azkaban.

Lucius and Narcissa were among them. It helped strengthen their claim when Lucius offered a large sum of gold as a donation to the Ministry. They weren’t the only ones. Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, and Gibbon, among others ー they all avoided arrest the same way, despite bearing the Dark Mark on their arms, and all claimed to have been under the influence of the Imperius Curse. It helped, too, that they all came from powerful wizarding families, and several had young children that they could use to paint themselves as ‘family men’.

By now, Ursula was part of the family. In the short time Cassiopeia had to raise her, she had taught her daughter basic manners, and Narcissa’s lips quirked when she discovered this. Her sister may have run away, but she was still a Black at heart. Even more surprising was the way Ursula got along with Draco, who simply adored her. Ursula was quiet and well behaved ー almost too quiet, Narcissa noted.

There were nights when she stood outside Ursula’s room and could hear her cry for her mother. On those nights Narcissa comforted her, had one of the house elves bring her a warm drink, and stayed with her until she fell asleep. There were nights when Ursula woke up in terror, having had a nightmare about her mother’s death. Narcissa only discovered this after the third time it happened, when Ursula had knocked on their bedroom door beside herself in tears. On those nights Narcissa dried her tears and tucked her back in, then ran a gentle hand through her hair until she fell asleep. Once she was sure Ursula was asleep, she returned to bed. Lucius never said anything about it.

Ursula’s room was grey and lavender, with everything from the carpet to the curtains matching the color scheme. Narcissa had bought her a wardrobe full of clothes, and every morning she did Ursula’s hair. She bought her toys as well, dolls and stuffed animals and art supplies. Ursula never made a mess or caused a disturbance. She smiled and stared up at Lucius and Narcissa with her mother’s eyes, and though Narcissa felt a pang in her heart every time, it made her so happy to have Ursula safe and cared for. She knew that’s what Cassiopeia wanted. In fact, she was certain.

Shortly after Ursula’s fourth birthday, one of Lucius’s lawyers finally found Cassiopeia’s will. There had been far more important things to worry about during the war, but now that it was over Narcissa wanted to be sure Ursula got what was rightfully hers. She again praised her sister’s sensibility at creating a will.

“The late Ms. Black leaves all property, money, and possessions to her daughter, Ms. Ursula Black,” said the solicitor, reading from the will. This came as no surprise to either of them.

“How much property?” asked Lucius. He and his wife both knew Cassiopeia wasn’t lacking in wealth.

“Two flats in London and one in Diagon Alley,” said the solicitor. “Her legal guardians are to be Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and Edward and Andromeda Tonks. In the event that neither are available, the child will go to the nearest relation, with the exception of one Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“She thought this through,” murmured Narcissa. “She knew what might happen.”

“It is Ms. Black’s wish that her daughter be told of her parentage only when she has reached the appropriate age. She has left details for how to contact her daughter’s father, who is aware of her existence. The appropriate age for her to be told is up to her guardians.”

The solicitor slid the will across the table to them. Ursula’s father’s name was clearly printed. Lucius and Narcissa were stunned.

“An odd choice,” said Lucius at last, pulling himself together. “But respectable, I suppose, all things considered.”

Narcissa had nothing to say. The solicitor gathered up his things and left.

One week later, Narcissa was at her mother’s house for tea. Ursula was busy drawing, giving Druella time to ask a question Narcissa could tell she had wanted to know the answer to for some time.

“Is she… is she a pureblood?” Druella asked quietly. Narcissa could sense the urgency in her mother’s voice.

“Yes,” answered Narcissa with finality.

“How can you be sure?”

“It was in Cassiopeia’s will.” A stunned expression settled on Druella’s face. “I know who Ursula’s father is. It is Cassiopeia’s wish that Ursula not be told until she is old enough to understand. Though Ursula is a pureblood, Cassiopeia does not wish for her father’s identity to be common knowledge, nor does she wish Ursula to change her surname.”

“Can you tell me?”

Narcissa did, and Druella’s jaw dropped.

“Really? Well, that’s better than we could have hoped for! Not a sacred twenty-eight family, but still, there’s money to be had there. And any potential suitors would be at the very least pleased ー”

“Mother,” said Narcissa, interrupting her. “Ursula is four. She does not need to consider suitors.”

“But  _ we  _ do,” said Druella. “It takes time to prepare these things. But do not worry, I already have several prospects around her age. Hadrian Rowle is my favorite, he’s only a year older than her. There’s also the Burke boy… Lewis. Then, of course, we must discuss Ursula’s prospects.”

“Cassiopeia left her everything,” said Narcissa. “All the money in her vault. A flat in Diagon Alley, and two in London. Lucius and I are selling one, the one Cassiopeia ー the one she ー”

She did not finish the sentence. Druella cringed at the thought of a flat in muggle London.

“I am not referring to your sister,” said Druella. “We expected her to leave Ursula everything. Cygnus and I… are considering making her our heir.”

Narcissa was thunderstruck. She seemed to spend a lot of time in shock lately.

“There will be a sizable portion set aside for you and Draco, of course,” continued Druella, mistaking her amazement and patting her on the hand. “But your father and I feel that if Ursula can be raised  _ properly  _ as a daughter of the House of Black, then she is the rightful heir. Your sister has no children, and your son will inherit from his father. There must be someone to insure that the values of our family are not lost. Cygnus and I have amassed a handsome fortune, and an estate like this would overrule any qualms about the circumstances of Ursula’s birth.”

_ Handsome  _ was an understatement when it came to her family’s fortune.

“That is very generous of you,” said Narcissa finally. “And of course you’re right. Ursula ー” they both looked at the little girl, happily coloring in front of the window “ー will be a very rich girl.”

“One of the richest,” corrected Druella, “in all twenty-eight sacred families. No suitor could say no to that.”

Narcissa did not reply. She did not wish to discuss suitors when Ursula was so young.

Druella spoke again. “I would like Ursula to come by more frequently so I can begin her instruction. I understand that she will have a governess, but if she is to be a proper member of this family she must learn from those in it.”

“Yes mother,” said Narcissa. “Ursula darling!” she called. “Come show us what you’ve drawn.”

“A dragon!” said Ursula excitedly.

Druella sniffed. “Not the most  _ ladylike  _ of things ー”

“Very nice dear,” interrupted Narcissa. “Your grandmother wishes to teach you about our family. Would you like to learn?”

Ursula nodded, but Narcissa had expected as much. She was a very agreeable child.

“Do you remember the family motto?” asked Druella, and Ursula nodded again.

“ _ Toujours pur _ ,” said Ursula proudly.

“Very good!” Druella shared a look with Narcissa; her mind was made up. “Exactly.  _ Toujours pur _ . And what does that mean?”

“Always pure?”

“Excellent! Remember that, my dear.  _ Always pure _ .”

When Narcissa and Ursula finally left they were about to head home as planned, when at the last second Narcissa changed her mind. She Disapparated with a  _ pop! _ and a moment later they were standing on a cobblestone street, looking up at a little brick house.

“Where are we?” asked Ursula, clutching Narcissa’s hand. Narcissa didn’t answer. After a moment she steeled herself and walked slowly up to the house. She knocked sharply on the green painted door.  _ Knock knock. _

The door opened.

“Hello Andromeda.”


	4. Black Sheep

Of all the people Andromeda Tonks expected to see on her doorstep, her sister was not one of them.

“Narcissa,” she said coolly. “It’s been…”

“Almost two years,” finished Narcissa quietly. The last time the sisters had seen each other was at Cassiopeia’s funeral. They hadn’t spoken, even then.

Andromeda’s eyes landed on Ursula, who clutched at Narcissa’s skirt and stared up at her with the same large grey eyes as Cassiopeia. She sighed.

“You’d better come in,” she said, opening the door wider. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

Narcissa picked Ursula up and followed Andromeda inside, past the staircase and through a hallway lined with photos of Andromeda, her husband, and her daughter.

“Ted’ll be home from work soon,” said Andromeda. “It’s nearly dinnertime, and he’s picking Dora up from school. Would you care for some tea?”

Narcissa shook her head. “No, thank you… you have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.”

The two witches stared at each other in silence. Narcissa spoke first, but it was to Ursula, who was still staring curiously at Andromeda.

“Ursula darling, this is Aunt Andromeda,” she said. “Would you like to say hello?”

“Hello,” Ursula said softly.

“Hello dear,” said Andromeda, smiling warmly at her. Looking over her head at Narcissa, she said, “Am I allowed to be her aunt, then?”

“It’s what Cassiopeia would have wanted,” Narcissa replied. “She made you and… Ted… godparents, as well as Lucius and I.”

“Is this about Cassiopeia’s will?”

“Yes, but it isn’t the only reason I came.” She took a deep breath. “I think you should have a hand in her upbringing, to teach her things her mother would have wanted her to know. That is, if you’re willing.”

“Does Lucius know you’re here?”

Narcissa shook her head firmly. “No. He doesn’t need to know. But after the war… mother and father plan to make her their heir.”

Andromeda’s eyebrows flew up.

“With everything that entails, particularly mother’s plans for teaching her about the House of Black…”

“You want to balance out what she learns,” said Andromeda. “And if there should be another war, and Ursula is forced to choose?”

Narcissa shuddered at the thought. “Then she will hopefully be informed enough to make the right choice.”

Andromeda studied her sister for a moment, then grinned. “We’re not so different, you and I. I won’t even question what you believe the ‘right choice’ would be, heaven forfend she ever has to choose. Alright… I’m in.”

The girl in question understood little of what they were saying, only that it was about her from the way her aunts kept glancing down at her, their eyes darting away the moment she noticed.

“Ursula,” said Narcissa, drawing her attention. “You’re going to come see Aunt Andromeda sometimes, okay? But it has to be a secret. You can’t tell anyone. Do you understand?”

Ursula nodded, but her nod only meant so much at such a young age. Narcissa recalled that she hadn’t said a word about Draco’s birthday presents, and took that as a good sign. Before any more could be said, the front door banged open.

“MUM!” shouted a girl, running into the sitting room. She was lanky, around eight or nine, and her brown hair was getting distinctly pinker by the second. She wore a mud splattered, grass stained uniform and clutched a dirty black and white football under one arm.

Narcissa shot Andromeda a look that said  _ Football? Really? _ but didn’t say anything.

Right behind her came a fair haired man with a relaxed, easy smile who tossed his keys on the table and said, “Dora dear, your mum seems busy. Sorry Dromeda, didn’t know you had company.”

Narcissa gave Ted a polite smile. The cuffs of his pants were flecked with mud.

“Who are they?” asked his daughter impatiently, clearly bursting with her own news.

“Ted, Dora, this is Narcissa Malfoy, my sister, and Ursula Black, my niece,” said Andromeda, sighing affectionately and ruffling her daughter’s already messy hair. “Narcissa, Ursula dear, this is my husband Ted and my daughter Nymphadora.”

“Mum!” complained Nymphadora, stomping her foot. “Don’t call me that!”

“Be polite in front of our guests,” chided Andromeda.

Nymphadora’s hair was on its way from pink to purple now, and Ursula was mesmerized. Ted reached over and picked her up before Narcissa could stop him.

“Wheeee!” he said, swinging her around. Ursula giggled. “You must be Cassiopeia’s daughter, eh?” She nodded. “Well, I’m Uncle Ted. Wondered if we’d be seeing you, what with ー”

“Ted,” interrupted Andromeda, though she smiled at the way he played with her. “Why don’t you take Dora to get cleaned up and I’ll let my sister and niece get going.”

“Of course,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. He swung Ursula through the air one more time before setting her down, then he left the sitting room, taking Nymphadora with him.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, then?” said Andromeda, standing up.

Narcissa nodded and picked Ursula up. Andromeda led them back to the door.

“Thanks for bringing her here,” said Andromeda, smiling fondly at Ursula. “I didn’t think you would.”

“But Cassiopeia would have,” said Narcissa, “and it would be an insult to her memory not to. Andromeda?” she said, just before her sister could close the door. “Thank you, too.”

Andromeda smiled one more time and closed the door. It had started to rain, but Narcissa Disapparated the moment she stepped off the front porch.

“Is Lucius home yet?” asked Narcissa when she entered Malfoy Manor, finding Draco and the nanny in the nursery.

“No ma’am,” said the nanny, handing Draco to her and holding her hand out to Ursula. “I’ll get this one changed for dinner. That one’s been asking for you.”

Narcissa murmured sweet words to her son, who was nearly two at this point. His hair was blond and his eyes were grey, just like both of his parents. Just minutes after she returned home her husband arrived.

“Been home long?” asked Lucius, greeting his wife with a kiss.

“No, not long,” said Narcissa. “I meant to change, but I got caught up with Draco.”

Their son reached out a chubby hand towards his father, whose expression softened into a small smile.

“I’ll take him,” said Lucius, “while you change. Then at dinner we can discuss how tea went with your mother. Is there a lot to learn?”

“No,” said Narcissa, pausing at the door to smile back at them, “just a lot to consider.”


	5. The Governess

The news that Ursula was to be the heir to the House of Black surprised Lucius, but not as much as it had surprised Narcissa. Lucius took a long, slow drink of wine when Narcissa told him, after the children went up to bed. After all, as he put it, she was a logical choice if she could be raised with the Black family ideals and it would undo the damage done by the circumstances of her birth.

“That’s exactly what my mother said,” said Narcissa, pursing her lips.

“She’s right,” replied Lucius. “Which isn’t something I say a lot. This makes Ursula’s education even more important.”

One year later, shortly after Ursula’s fifth birthday, the Malfoys hired a governess for Ursula. All of the candidates had gone though a rigorous screening progress, including background checks and proof of parentage. Finally they had chosen a middle aged, grey haired pureblood woman named Wilhelmina Tripe with a reputation for being strict and getting impeccable results. She had recommendations from the Yaxleys and the Burkes, whose eldest daughters had only just started at Hogwarts. Ursula wouldn’t be alone in her studies, either.

“Ursula, this is Vanessa Shafiq.”

Vanessa peered out from behind her father’s legs. Like Ursula, she was petite and pale, but she had straight blonde hair, unlike Ursula’s soft black curls. Her father gave her a gentle push forward.

“Hello,” said Ursula softly.

“Hi,” replied Vanessa with equal volume.

“Right then!” said her father, checking his watch. “I must get going, or else I’ll be late for work. Lucius, Narcissa, always a pleasure.” He and Lucius shook hands before Mr. Shafiq turned on his heel and left.

“It’s time for me to go as well,” said Lucius, pecking his wife on the cheek. “I have a meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and then I have some items to retrieve.”

Narcissa followed her husband to the door, leaving the girls alone. But before they could say anything more to one another, their governess, Madam Tripe, poked her head out of the library.

“Well?” she demanded, startling them both. “Are you going to stand there all day? We have work to do!”

Ursula and Vanessa looked at each other before scurrying quickly into the library. Madam Tripe was frightening, and they would have to stick together.

Madam Tripe taught them on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from nine in the morning until three o’clock in the afternoon, plus a half day on Tuesdays. Friday and Saturday evenings were for parties, where Ursula and Vanessa could put their lessons to use. Dinner the rest of the week was quiet unless they hosted Ministry officials or attended a dinner party at someone else’s house.

On Tuesday afternoons Narcissa took Ursula to tea at her mother’s, where Druella would spend time teaching Ursula about family history. On Fridays Narcissa would drop Ursula off at Andromeda’s, and they would bake or play games or go on outings together ー always in the Muggle world, where Lucius would never see them. Ursula often went to Andromeda’s on Sundays as well, as long as she was home in time to go to tea with a few family friends. Despite how dreadfully boring and stuffy these teas always were, Narcissa and Ursula went every week, as Narcissa considered it a proper and ladylike thing to do.

Nymphadora Tonks  _ adored  _ Ursula. She always gave her piggyback rides, she taught her how to climb trees, and Narcissa was pretty sure she taught Ursula how to ride a broom, though Lucius had already done so. At five years older than Ursula, Nymphadora left for Hogwarts when her cousin was just six, and those Friday visits were replaced by outings with Draco or Vanessa, to a nice park or to go shopping. Those were fun too, but they didn’t hold a candle to when Nymphadora returned home for the summer. Ursula still saw Andromeda and Ted on Sundays, but it was always better with Nymphadora there.

Ursula hadn’t lost her passion for dragons; it had grown into an interest in all sorts of magical creatures and plenty of ordinary ones. After attempting (and, somehow, succeeding) to befriend a squirrel and a number of pigeons in the garden, Lucius put her in charge of training his four peacocks, to her continued delight. Ursula’s eyes had gone large when he told her, and she had given him a tight hug. Lucius found this highly unusual, but Narcissa said it was sweet, and he agreed.

During the summer Nymphadora and Ursula were often joined by one of Nymphadora’s friends from school, a boy named Charlie. Narcissa had never met the boy or even seen him, but he was to blame for fueling Ursula’s interest in magical creatures, which was the one unladylike thing she was interested in, and her fascination with dragons in particular. It was alright, she supposed, if Ursula had one interest outside of the scope of etiquette and French; Madam Tripe was relentless about making her into the perfect young woman.

In the beginning, when the girls were five and six, Madam Tripe began with the basics, such as reading and writing, French, and of course etiquette. As they got older her teaching grew to include history ー of purebloods, of course ー as well as the fine arts, such as dancing, singing, and painting. Their governess was very strict and did not tolerate tears, which both girls had learned the hard way, and more than once.

“Stop crying,” said Madam Tripe irritably. One of the peacocks had been picked off by a hawk that morning, and Ursula had been bursting into tears all day.

Ursula wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but the tears didn’t stop.

“If you do not stop at once, I will have  _ no choice _ but to cancel tea for today, which I was planning on having in the garden,” warned Madam Tripe.

Vanessa put her arm around Ursula, her fair face scrunched into a glare. “She’s had a loss.”

“That’s it!” Their governess threw up her hands. “Outings in the garden are canceled for the rest of the week! Not stop crying  _ this instant _ ! I will not tolerate it any longer!”

Ursula managed to gulp and pull herself together.

She and Vanessa were each other’s greatest ー and only ー ally when it came to Madam Tripe, and after spending weeks together they became very close friends. Both had warmed up from their initial shyness, and the best way to survive their governess was together. She was more than happy to give praise if they earned it, but was just as willing to dole out punishment, most often in the form of taking away outings, or restricting time in the gardens.

“Ursula, stay in time!” reprimanded Madam Tripe as Ursula made her way as best she could through a piece on the piano. She snapped her ruler across Ursula’s knuckles. “Don’t flatten your fingers!”

Knuckles smarting, Ursula managed to make it through the rest of the song without any more mistakes, and then she joined Vanessa at the table.

“Vanessa!” snapped Madam Tripe. Vanessa had been gazing dreamily out the window, but she shook her head and refocused on her drawing. “Focus! And you ー” she pointed at Ursula “ー draw the garden this time, and no magical creatures! May I remind you that outings are a  _ privilege _ !”

Ursula nodded, kept the scowl off her face, and finished drawing the rosebush they could see out the window.

“Alright girls,” said Madam Tripe a little while later. Both looked up with soft smiles and inquisitive eyes and their governess nodded approvingly. “I believe it is tea time. Tea will be served  _ inside  _ today, until you have both managed to stay focused.”

Madam Tripe taught them many things, but her greatest abilities lay in etiquette. A house elf brought a tea tray into the drawing room and Madam Tripe poured them all a cup.

“Poise,” she said, checking their posture. “Grace.” Both girls smiled demurely and took a synchronised sip of tea, pinkies out and holding the cup delicately. “Manners.”

“Delicious tea,” said Vanessa, setting her teacup onto its saucer. “Ursula dear, you done anymore work memorizing that lovely little piano piece?”

“Well you know what they say,” said Ursula, “ _ Petit a petit, l’oiseau fait son nid _ . Now, Vanessa, would you care for some more tea?”

“Excellent girls, excellent,” said Madam Tripe, as Ursula refilled their teacups. “A considerable improvement from last time. Vanessa, can you tell me what Ursula meant?”

“ _ ‘Little by little, the bird makes its nest _ , _ ’ _ ” quoted Vanessa.

“Very good. Do your readings and practice your French, and on Monday I expect results.” Her tone made it clear that she  _ demanded  _ results. “ _ If _ I am impressed, and  _ only if _ , perhaps we shall take an outing soon. I believe you both have weekend engagements?”

“We will both be attending a dinner party at Rowle Manor,” said Ursula. “Grandmother wishes to introduce me to someone.”

Madam Tripe gave an approving nod.

The next day, Ursula was dropped off at Andromeda’s, where they had decided to bake a cake, something her governess never would have allowed.

“You look a bit paler than usual,” remarked Andromeda.

“I haven’t gone outside as much this week,” said Ursula as she poured the mixture into the pan. “Our governess had tea served inside.”

“Why, particularly?”

“Vanessa and I made some mistakes in our lessons,” her niece replied, shrugging.

“Hmm,” said Andromeda, but she said nothing more. “Would you like to lick the spoon, dear?”

It was only when Narcissa arrived to pick her up and was sampling a slice of the cake that Andromeda mentioned it again.

“Does her governess restrict her time outside often?” she asked. Narcissa gave a gentle shrug.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied honestly. She stayed out of the way of Madam Tripe, finding she was reminded a little too strongly of her own governess.

“I seem to recall that our governess did something similar when she wanted us to behave,” said Andromeda, crossing her arms. “Ursula darling, will you join me in the kitchen for a moment?”

When she had Ursula alone, she produced a small box and handed it to her.

“What is it?” asked Ursula.

“A nose-biting teacup,” whispered Andromeda. “Don’t tell Narcissa.”

“Why are you giving it to me?”

Andromeda smiled. “For teatime. Use it well.”


	6. Funerals

Ursula did not want to go to the funeral.

Walburga Black died March 10th, 1985. Her funeral was held four days later.

It made her nauseous just to think about it. In the days leading up to it, her hands grew twitchier, she ate less, and she couldn’t sleep. The morning of the funeral dawned behind cloudy skies. Ursula could barely keep her breakfast down. It wasn’t out of an abundance of love for her great aunt that Ursula did not want to go; it was out of terror. She did not know what she was so afraid of ー her aunt was dead, after all.

“I don’t want to go,” whispered Ursula, tugging on her aunt’s hand, now more frantically as the event drew nearer.

“I know dear,” replied Narcissa. She could tell her niece was acting peculiar, but there was little she could do about it. “Stand up straight.”

“It’s time!” called Lucius from the front hall.

When they arrived at the cemetery, there were perhaps a dozen relations already there. It was located in a little wizarding village on the outskirts of London, and was solely for the Black family’s use. Ursula and Draco stood dutifully beside Lucius and Narcissa as funeral attendees expressed their sorrow over the loss of Walburga. The deaths of her husband and son in the same year, followed two years later by the imprisonment of her other son ー disowned or not ー had proven quite a shock.

“Lucius, Narcissa dear, how lovely it is to see you. So sad it had to be under the circumstances.” The sympathies were expressed by a severe old woman in a pointed witch’s hat, who nevertheless appeared rather springy for her age. “Of course, my niece’s temperament was what we all thought would get the better of her in the end.”

“Great aunt Cassiopeia,” said Narcissa. “This is my son, Draco, and my niece, Ursula.”

“Of course, my namesake’s daughter,” said Cassiopeia Black, bending down to look Ursula in the eye. “How do you do?”

“Ursula, say hello,” said Narcissa, but Ursula said nothing. She had gone pale and rigid.

“It must be nerves, the poor dear,” said Cassiopeia, standing back up. “Never you mind. Bring her round for tea sometime. I daresay I don’t get out much, but I can still entertain.”

Her voice faded away to background noise as Ursula stood frozen.  _ Cassiopeia _ .

Memories flashed through her head of a funeral held in the summer, much smaller than this, the body of the deceased covered by a sheet, black hair that had been cleaned of blood poking out… her mother. Her mother had been buried here.

Ursula had blocked out the memories of her mother’s funeral without realizing. She assumed they had simply been forgotten, as she had only been two at the time, but no. Here, now, at another funeral in the same place, greeted by a relation with the same name… the memories came back. The pieces fell into place.

Dimly she was aware of being led to her seat. She tried to focus, focus on the elderly wizard speaking in front of Walburga’s coffin.

_ The funeral was small, with half a dozen attendees. The sky was dotted with clouds. The eulogy came from a witch with soft brown hair. She cried the whole time. Ursula stood at Narcissa’s side. She couldn’t take her eyes off the coffin. _

The elderly wizard’s speech was long. Disconnected phrases floated over her. A great mother… a perfect daughter… missed dearly by her friends and family.

_ The witch finished speaking, and was embraced by a fair haired man who held her while she sobbed. There were others who spoke. A young man in a leather jacket, tie askew. A tall man with brown hair and a strange accent. _

The wizard invited them to stand and approach the coffin. Narcissa beckoned her to follow. Ursula didn’t move. Lucius took her hand and guided her up, giving her a gentle push forward. Ursula took a reluctant look.

_ Someone led Ursula forward, setting her on a stool. Her little hands gripped the edge of the coffin. Her cheeks were wet with tears. She looked in, at the body covered with a sheet. There were some things magic could not heal. _

Ursula gripped Lucius’s hand tightly. Walburga looked more peaceful in death than she ever had in life. Her eyes were closed. Her hair was neatly styled. Her hands lay clasped on her stomach. Ursula reeled back.

_ Only her mother’s face could be seen, eyes closed. Her expression was serene. She hadn’t died that way. Ursula touched the pearls hanging around her own neck. Her mother’s pearls. She cried harder. She called for her mother without an answer. _

Ursula could barely breathe. Lucius pulled his hand away with a gasp. She caught a glimpse of angry red burns. There were other people waiting now. Narcissa gripped her shoulders and steered her away. She said something to Lucius, who nodded.

_ Narcissa tried to lead her away, but she wouldn’t leave her mother. Ursula was aware of someone screaming. She realized the screams were her own. She couldn’t leave her mother. Strong hands picked her up, carrying her away, even as she screamed and cried. _

Narcissa waited with the other relatives next to the grave. Orion Black was buried on the left. Regulus Black was buried on the right. Ursula stared at the names. She knew her mother was buried nearby. Lucius Disapparated with Ursula and Draco, taking them back to Malfoy Manor. Ursula stumbled as her feet hit the ground.

_ A man’s kind face came into view as he set her gently on the grass and knelt in front of her. His eyes twinkled, though he looked sad. He hugged her as she cried, cupping her head in a calloused hand. _

Her uncle didn’t stop her as she ran upstairs to her room. She shut the door behind her. Ursula kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed. She picked up her little stuffed bear. Her mother had given it to her. She clutched the bear and started to cry.

_ “Oh little one,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” _

“Ursula darling?” It was Narcissa, knocking softly on her door. Ursula didn’t know how long she had been crying. “May I come in?”

“I ー want ー my ー mother!” gulped Ursula in between sobs.

Narcissa entered the bedroom and joined Ursula on the bed. She held her, running her fingers through her hair and murmuring soft words. Narcissa knew taking Ursula to the cemetery where her mother had been buried was a risk, but she didn’t expect her to remember. She didn’t know if Ursula even remembered her mother’s funeral.

When Ursula stopped crying, Narcissa suggested she take a nap. Ursula had missed lunch and hadn’t eaten much at breakfast, but she insisted she wasn’t hungry when Narcissa offered to send up a sandwich. As Narcissa closed the door she heard Ursula sniffle. A pang went through her heart.

“What did the solicitor say?” asked her husband when she came back downstairs, purposefully avoiding talking about their niece. “About the entail. Who inherits from Walburga?”

“The entail cannot be changed,” said Narcissa. “Sirius is the eldest son, so he inherits the property and his father’s money, whether he is in Azkaban or not. But Walburga divided the fortune her parents left her among my father, myself, Bellatrix, and Ursula.”

“So Ursula inherits again,” remarked Lucius. “How is she? What happened?”

“Something triggered memories of her mother,” said Narcissa. She was tired. It had been a long day. “Is your hand okay?”

Lucius held up his hand to show he had healed the burns. “It was strong for a burst of accidental magic. We’ll have to tell Madam Tripe so Ursula can learn to control it.”

“I think,” said Narcissa slowly, “that Madam Tripe is not the answer.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I believe it’s time for Ursula to meet her father.”


	7. Betelgeuse

A few short weeks later, barely a month shy of Ursula’s seventh birthday, and Ursula’s father was finally coming to visit. She hadn’t seen him since her mother’s funeral, and Narcissa doubted she even remembered him. He had taken a while to track down; he was living in America, in Arizona of all places. Once they found him, they had to plan when and where to meet him, but finally they had everything settled.

It was decided that he would come to Malfoy Manor. Druella had wanted him to come to her house, but Narcissa insisted that he see where Ursula lived. He asked to take Ursula on an outing, and while both Lucius and Narcissa were hesitant, they agreed that as her father he should be allowed. If he turned up and they discovered he was creepy or a weirdo, they would not let him leave the house with Ursula, whether she was his daughter or not.

The day of the meeting Ursula was practically bouncing with anticipation. She wore a pretty yellow dress and could hardly sit still as Narcissa tied her hair with pink and yellow ribbons. The meeting with her father, which would take place shortly after breakfast, was of great interest to the entire family. Cygnus and Druella were the only ones allowed to attend, and they arrived at the manor with a sense of snobbish importance about them.

“He should be here any minute,” said Narcissa, glancing at the grandfather clock.

They all waited nervously in the front hall, with the exception of Draco who, at five years old, had no interest in meeting him. Lucius had sent him to Nott Manor for the day where he and Theodore Nott, the boy he shared a governess with, could play together. They heard a faint _pop_ outside, and not a moment later there was a loud knock on the door.

“Weesy, open the door,” said Lucius, and the house elf obeyed.

In strode Ursula’s father, beaming from ear to ear.

The first thing they noticed was his cowboy hat.

Short brown hair could be seen underneath it, and he wore a worn blue coat over a light brown vest. He was taller than all of them, and friendly blue eyes twinkled from under his hat.

“Howdy y’all,” he said, coming to a stop in front of them. His eyes landed on Ursula and he smiled, if possible even wider. “Hello little one!” he said, holding out his arms.

Ursula ran right to him and he picked her up, hugging and laughing and swinging her around. He pulled off his cowboy hat and put it on her head, causing her to giggle. The others could only gape. When he finally set her down ー still wearing his hat ー he pulled out his wand and a bouquet of daffodils burst out of the end, which he handed with a flourish to a stunned Narcissa.

“I’m Kenneth Scamander,” he said, shaking each of their hands. Druella was too scandalized to say anything. “Call me Ken. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to finally meet you, and to see my little girl again.”

Lucius was the first to recover. “Would you ー would you care for a tour?”

Narcissa handed the bunch of daffodils to the house elf as Lucius led Ken up the staircase, Ursula clinging to his side. The other three followed, still dazed.

“It’s a lovely house,” remarked Ken as they toured the manor. “Lived here long?”

“Since the eleventh century,” said Lucius stiffly.

When the tour ended, Narcissa asked, “Where shall we sit? We have a lot to discuss.”

She had meant the drawing room, as it wasn’t really a question, but Ken said, “How about the garden? It’s a beautiful day.”

When at last they were seated, Ken agreed to answer any questions they had. Cygnus went first.

“So what do you do in… where did you live again?”

“I live in Phoenix, Arizona,” said Ken, setting his cowboy hat on the table. “I work with thunderbirds, preserving their habitat, collecting their shedded tail feathers for wand cores, et cetera.”

“How did you know my daughter?” asked Druella. She was the only one who hadn’t gotten over the shock of meeting Ken Scamander.

“We went to school together,” he said. “My father was a Ravenclaw, and I was sorted into Hufflepuff like my grandad.”

“This would be Newt Scamander, the famed magizoologist, correct?” asked Narcissa. Druella gave a cough that sounded distinctly like  _ ‘Hufflepuff’ _ .

Ken nodded.

“That explains Ursula’s interest in magical creatures,” said Narcissa thoughtfully.

“Oh?” Ken grinned down at his daughter in surprise and delight. “It seems to run in the family.”

“Her favorite is dragons,” said Lucius. He found the whole situation just shocking enough to be humorous.

“An excellent choice! Tell me little one, which breed is your favorite?”

Just as Ursula said, “Norwegian Ridgeback!” Narcissa asked about Cassiopeia.

“You said you went to school with her,” she said, “but that still doesn’t explain, well…” She gestured to Ursula and didn’t finish her sentence.

Ken suddenly looked sheepish. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “Cassiopeia and I were friends at school. We were both good at Potions ー Professor Slughorn invited us both into the Slug Club because of our families ー and we were the only two students in NEWT level Astronomy. She knew you, um, probably wouldn’t approve about our friendship, so I doubt she ever talked about me. My mom and three of my grandparents are American, so I went to America a lot over the summer, and I told her about it. Nothing romantic happened during school. I graduated and moved to Arizona, and she stayed here to get, um, to get married.”

Ken smiled down at his daughter before continuing. “I doubt she ever told you, but she wanted to be a potioneer. She wrote to me before her twentieth birthday when she learned who she was supposed to marry, and I invited her to come stay with me. She got a friend to cover for her ー Emma Vanity ー who lied about taking a trip to France.”

“I remember that,” said Druella slowly. “I can’t believe we ever agreed to let her go.”

“Cassiopeia stayed with me for about six months, maybe a little more. That was when we dated. We had been such good friends for so long that we just decided to give it a shot. We both knew she would go back home eventually. She loved y’all very much… She came home, and pretty soon she was engaged to  _ him _ .” He spat the last word like an insult. “But she also discovered she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me until a month or two before Ursula was born. I believe she ran away again and stayed with Andromeda. Shortly after our daughter was born, I came to visit and we made plans.”

“Did those plans involve her will?” asked Narcissa. Ken nodded.

“We decided that we were better off as friends who just happened to have a daughter together. Since it was in the middle of a war, Cassiopeia wanted to plan should something… should something happen.” He swallowed. “My job is not good for family life. We do lots of traveling and hiking through the wilderness. And as much as I love Ursula…” He gazed down at her. “She was Cassiopeia’s pride and joy, and Cassiopeia wanted her to grow up knowing her family. I visited only occasionally after she moved out of Andromeda’s ー Ursula was about six months old, I think, and of course I helped pay for everything ー and for the most part we went our separate ways. It was Andromeda who told me she died.”

He sighed and fiddled with his hands for a moment. “I didn’t try and take Ursula from you at the funeral for three main reasons. The first is that a funeral is not the right place to take a child, not when it’s her mother being buried. The second is that I wasn’t… I wasn’t ready to raise a child. I know that’s not a great excuse, but with my job and everything, it’s the truth. The third, and most important reason, is that it’s not what Cassiopeia wanted. Her will was very specific, and we designed it that way. She wanted Ursula to grow up here, with all of you, where she would be safe. Cassiopeia had a plan, and I wasn’t going to mess it up. I also knew that she included instructions for how to contact me in her will, and I just hoped one day you would… and then you did.”

He looked around at them all. “I hope this means you’ll let me be a part of her life?”

Narcissa nodded. “Yes. Yes it does.” The others made noises of agreement, however hesitantly. Even Druella agreed.

“Dad?” They all looked down at Ursula in surprise. “Did you love her?”

Ken’s smile grew a little sad. “I loved your mother very much,” he said, his eyes still twinkling at her. “But as a friend, and nothing more.”

“And ー and do you love me?”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her close. “I love you so, so much little one.”

“You said you wanted to take her on an outing?” said Lucius.

“Yeah,” said Ken, nodding. Ursula’s eyes went round in excitement. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to take her to Dorset for the afternoon. My grandparents live there, and my parents are visiting, and I’d like her to meet them.”

“I suppose that would be alright,” said Narcissa slowly. “As long as you have her back by dinnertime.”

Ursula was practically jumping up and down by now. Narcissa led them back through the house, and Ursula followed Ken out the front door.

“Thank you,” he said. “For letting me see her.”

Narcissa smiled. Ken prepared to Disapparate with Ursula. Suddenly she said, “Her eyes twinkle like yours. And she has your smile.”

Ken tipped his cowboy hat to her, and with a  _ pop  _ he and his daughter vanished.

They appeared on a windy hilltop, surrounded by grassy slopes. Off in the distance they could see the sea, bordered by a sandy beach that was dotted with little stalls and carts selling ice cream and the like.

“This way,” said Ken, leading Ursula down a winding path. It was just a short walk down the hill and along the path before they reached a little bundle of cottages. Ken strode up to the third cottage, a brightly painted two story house with vines climbing up the porch roof. Before he could knock, the door was thrown open by a grinning man with salt and pepper hair.

“Ken!”

“They’re here!”

“Come in, come in!”

The man at the door was pushed aside by a round faced woman, who led Ken and Ursula inside, where an elderly woman with short silver hair and a beaming old man with a bow tie were sitting. Ursula was nervous at such an excited greeting, but Ken kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, this must be Ursula!” said the old man, bending down in front of her. He had blue eyes like Ken and had no trouble bending down, despite his white hair and lined face suggesting he was around ninety. He held out his hand for her to shake, which she did, tentatively. “I’m Newt, your great grandfather.”

“Let her breathe, this is a lot to take in,” said the elderly woman, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. He drew back. “I’m Tina. I suspect Kenneth hasn’t had time to tell you about us. Let me introduce you.” She pointed to the other couple, who had taken a seat on one side of the sectional. “This is Laurence, Newt and I’s son and your grandfather. We call him Laurie. And this is your grandmother Margaret, Maggie for short.”

“Hello hon,” said Maggie, smiling warmly at her. She had a heavy southern American accent. “We’re just ー oh we’re just thrilled to meet you!”

It was quite odd, Ursula thought, to have them all smiling at her, excited to see her and brimming with questions. Laurie suggested they talk over lunch, and soon she was seated at the dining room table between her grandpa and great grandpa, who pulled out a big book of photos while they were all munching on sandwiches.

“I thought I’d show you some family pictures as we got to know each other. Would you like that?”

She nodded quickly. She liked him already, and she had just spotted the bowtruckle clinging to his tie. He chuckled. But before he could open the photo album, a massive brown-and-black cat sprang onto her lap, purring and rubbing its head against her hand. Not a cat. A kneazle.

“That’s Mauler!” said Newt happily. “He doesn’t often show this much affection to newcomers. Tina and I have three Kneazles at the moment: Hoppy, Milly, and Mauler, plus Hoppy and Mauler had a litter just a couple months ago. Eight little kittens! I’ll show ‘em to you later, if you like.”

Ursula liked that very much. She gave Mauler a good scratch behind his ears.

Newt opened the album. “This here’s Tina and I with her sister Queenie and Queenie’s husband Jacob. He’s a Muggle. They still live in America ー Tina and Queenie are American. Tina and I have three kids. Your grandpa, Laurie, who’s our eldest, Gwendolyn, Gwen for short, and Alistair. You’ll see there’s a lot of nicknames in this family. My name’s Newton, and Tina’s full name is Porpentina. Here’s a picture of us with our kids. Laurie was no more than six when this picture was taken.”

He pointed to a black and white photo dated 1937 that showed him and Tina with their three kids, all smiling wide at the camera.

“We brought our kids to England so they could go to Hogwarts,” said Newt, “But we made sure they knew their American roots. Laurie went on to marry your grandma Maggie, who’s also an American, and aside from Ken they have another son, Barnaby, who we call Bat. Anyway, Barnaby and his wife have two little ones at the moment. Leon’s a bit younger than you, perhaps three years, and Beatrice is two years younger than him. So you have them as cousins!”

Ursula had been too excited by the prospect of seeing her father to even consider that she might have more cousins besides Draco and Nymphadora. Newt turned the page to a photo from his daughter’s wedding.

“Gwen also married an American, James ー Jim ー Evans, and they have two kids. Maud, who’s real name is Matilda, and Jacob, named after Gwen’s uncle. Maud has one child and is expecting another, and Jacob just got married. Our last child, Alistair, married a Welsh woman named Rhiannon, and they have three kids. Maurice, who has a little boy named Rolf who’s just a year younger than you, Gwenllian, who also goes by Gwen ー she just had a little baby a few weeks ago ー and Agatha. Up until Ken told us about you, Rolf was the oldest of our great grandkids. Tell me dearie, how old are you? Seven?”

Ursula shook her head, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. “I’m six. I turn seven in May.”

“Well then we’ll have to get you a gift!” said Laurie. “What do you like?”

“Ursula’s interested in magical creatures,” said Ken affectionately. Newt and Laurie looked giddy with excitement.

“That’s wonderful news!” said Laurie. “It runs in the family, you know. My grandma, my dad’s mother, she bred hippogriffs. And my dad works with all sorts of magical creatures. Ken here works with thunderbirds. What animal are you most interested in?”

“Dragons,” answered Ursula hesitantly, blushing a little. She knew her aunt and uncle thought her interest in dragons to be unladylike, but to her surprise her grandparents and great grandparents loved her answer.

“Dragons! How marvelous!” crowed Laurie. Ursula blushed harder and busied herself with petting Mauler. “Which breed is your favorite?”

Still hesitant, she quietly said, “Norwegian Ridgebacks.” That answer got an even more delighted response.

“Tell me sugar,” interjected Maggie, before her husband could ask more about dragons, “where do you live?”

“In Wiltshire,” said Ursula. “At Malfoy Manor with my aunt, uncle, and cousin Draco. Once or twice a week I visit my Aunt Andromeda, Uncle Ted, and my cousin Nymphadora.” Her face suddenly fell and she looked panic stricken. “Please don’t tell anyone about that. Aunt Narcissa and Aunt Andromeda aren’t supposed to get on. Aunt Andromeda was disowned, you see.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” reassured Maggie. “We understand.”

“What do you do at Malfoy Manor?” asked Tina. “Do you go to school at all?”

“I have a governess,” said Ursula. “Madam Tripe. She teaches my friend Vanessa and I the usual things.”

“What are the usual things?” pressed Tina.

Ursula shrugged. “Reading, writing, history, French, dancing, playing the piano, fine arts, and etiquette. Madam Tripe teaches us etiquette so we can be proper young ladies.”

None of the adults pressed any further. They knew what the Malfoys considered proper, and they weren’t about to question a child over her political views. The way it sounded made it seem like Andromeda and Ted were there to balance her out, and they all hoped that was the case.

“And what do you do when you visit your other aunt and uncle?” said Tina.

Ursula’s face split into a grin. “We bake or play games or go on outings! The zoo was my favorite. Nymphadora’s away at school for most of the year but she always gives me piggyback rides and her friend Charlie tells me about dragons!”

“What house is she in at Hogwarts?”

“Hufflepuff,” said Ursula brightly.

“Your father and I were both in Hufflepuff,” said Newt. “And Laurie was a Ravenclaw. I take it your mother was a Slytherin?”

Ursula nodded.

“A good friend of mine was a Slytherin,” said Newt.

“It’s a beautiful day,” said Maggie all of a sudden. “How’s about we stop looking at dusty old photos and take this little one out for a walk on the beach?”

They all readily agreed. Ursula was excited. Mauler was less happy to move. He had gotten very comfortable on Ursula’s lap and was reluctant to stop being petted.

“Leave your shoes here,” Ken told his daughter. “That way you can feel the sand when you walk.”

The group of six headed down to the beach, following the little path as it wound past the other cottages and through tall grass that rustled in the wind. After a few paces of watching Ursula carefully pick her way through the sticks that littered the ground, Ken said, “I heard you like piggyback rides.”

He hoisted her onto his back and went bounding off down the path. Her giggles floated back to the rest of the group, and it warmed their hearts to see Ken and Ursula together.

The beach was fairly empty when they arrived, with people gathered here and there and little stalls dotting the sand. Newt paused to roll up the cuffs of his pants before he and Laurie each took one of Ursula’s arms and ran along the shore with her between them. She shrieked in delight as the cold seawater lapped gently over their feet. Ken followed, his mother and grandmother bringing up the rear.

For much of the afternoon they ran to and fro in the briny sea, the froth tickling their feet, until even Ursula was worn out.

“How about some ice cream before we go back to the cottage?” suggested Newt. “My treat.”

He led them all further down to shore to a man selling ice cream from a little truck.

“Hello Mr. Scamander!” said the vendor as they approached. He seemed familiar with Newt and glad to see him. “Who do we have here?”

“You already know my wife Tina,” said Newt, “and this is my son Laurie and his wife Maggie, and my grandson Ken. And this little one ー” he ruffled Ursula’s hair “ー is my great granddaughter Ursula.”

“Very nice to meet you, little miss,” said the vendor, tipping his cap to her. She smiled. “What’ll it be?”

“Two scoops for the little one and one for the rest of us, please,” said Newt, pulling out his wallet, from which he removed several Muggle bills and a handful of coins.

“What flavor would you like?” asked the vendor kindly to Ursula.

She studied the options for a moment and finally said, in a very sweet and tentative voice, “May I please have strawberry ice cream?”

The vendor chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “It would be my pleasure.”

When they all had their ice cream, they strolled leisurely back along the beach. As they passed a photo booth, Ken had an idea.

“Let’s take a family picture!” The others readily agreed, and he went to pay.

“How many copies would you like?” asked the photographer.

“Four please.”

They all gathered around Ursula, holding their cups of ice cream and smiling at the camera.

“Say cheese on three!” called the photographer. “One… two… three!”

“Cheese!”

In no time at all, the copies had been printed, and at last they trudged back to the cottage. Ken stuck one copy of the picture into his pocket, handed one to his parents and one to his grandparents, and gave the last to Ursula.

“I have a few pictures of your mom and I to give you,” he said quietly. “Some moving, some still. But I wanted to commemorate today with a picture of us all together. Did you have fun?”

She nodded sleepily, worn out from so much excitement. “Yes dad.” It made him smile every time she called him that. He gave her a hug.

“I expect it’s about time for you to leave,” said Newt, “but first I want to show Ursula the kittens like I promised. They’re almost twelve weeks old. It’s about time to start finding them homes.”

He led her down the hallway and into a sunroom, where three full grown Kneazles and eight tiny kittens awaited them. The grown ones had large, tufted ears and a plumed tail not unlike a lion’s, although Mauler and Hoppy’s tails were fluffier. Milly had sleek, short hair and basked in the sunlight. Mauler was stretched out on the ground and purred when he saw Ursula. The kittens were a mix of black and brown and grey, and played happily with one another.

Ursula knelt as one of the kittens approached, a little black one with large orange eyes. He meowed and rubbed his head against her hand, and when she picked him up he purred happily.

“He likes you,” said Newt approvingly. “Do you want to take him home?”

“Could I?” Her eyes were round at the prospect. Newt chuckled and patted her on the head.

“He’s all yours. Happy Birthday Ursula.”

She let the kitten say goodbye to his siblings and parents, something Newt found very sweet and just the kind of thing he would do, and clutched him gently to her chest as she followed Newt back out into the sitting room, where her father was waiting to take her home.

“I thought you might find one who likes you,” said Ken. Newt fetched a wicker basket lined with a pale pink blanket for Ursula to carry the kitten in. “Any idea what you’re going to call him?”

“Betelgeuse,” replied Ursula without a moment’s hesitation. There was a moment of stunned silence at her certainty, before her choice got several laughs.

“Any particular reason?”

“His eyes look like Betelgeuse,” said Ursula. “And his fur is black like the night sky, with little grey flecks like stars.”

“It’s an excellent choice,” said Laurie. “Betelgeuse it is.”

Ursula placed Betelgeuse gently into the basket before saying her goodbyes one by one.

“Goodbye Grandpapa,” she said, giving Newt a hug. “Thank you for the ice cream and for Betelgeuse.” She moved onto Tina. “Goodbye Grandmama.” Laurie ruffled her hair when it was his turn to get a hug. “Goodbye Grandpa.” Maggie pulled her into a tight hug, causing her goodbye to be slightly muffled. “Goodbye Grandma.”

“Goodbye sugar,” she said, and Ursula thought there might have been tears in her eyes.

“I loved meeting you and I had lots of fun today,” said Ursula as she and Ken walked to the door. Ken tucked the pictures for Ursula into the basket.

“Goodbye dearie!” called Laurie. “We loved meeting you too!”

Ken took Betelgeuse’s basket from Ursula in one hand and picked her up with the other. With a last wave to the four people gathered at the door, he Disapparated with a  _ pop _ .

Maggie wasn’t the only one misty eyed.

“A sweetheart, she is,” said Laurie, dabbing his eyes. The others quite agreed.

Lucius and Narcissa opened the door of Malfoy Manor to find Ken, still grinning and wearing a cowboy hat, holding a wicker basket in one hand and supporting his sleepy daughter with the other. He set Ursula gently on the ground and handed the wicker basket to a bewildered Lucius.

“My grandfather decided to give her a birthday present,” said Ken. “I’ll get the permits for owning one sorted. His name is Betelgeuse.”

Lucius lifted the blanket just enough to see the little black kitten curled underneath, and realized that Newt Scamander had given his great granddaughter a Kneazle.

Ursula started to follow Narcissa inside before sprinting back to her father and giving him a tight hug. He hugged her back equally tightly, savoring the feeling of holding her in his arms.

“Thank you,” whispered Ursula. “I love you dad.”

“I love you too Ursula,” he said. “I’ll write to you, I promise. Happy birthday, my little one.”

With those parting words, Ursula took Narcissa’s hand and headed inside, Lucius following with Betelgeuse in the basket. Ursula turned and waved just before the door shut, and her father waved back. A quiet _pop_ , and he was gone.


	8. The Letter

As the years passed, Ken visited regularly, always for Ursula’s birthday. He sent her Christmas presents and little gifts for other holidays. He took her to visit her grandparents and great grandparents in the summer, and for her eighth birthday he took her to America. He took her again when he was ten, and both times they visited his thunderbird sanctuary. She met his brother Barnaby and his wife Wilhelmina ー Bat and Willie ー and her cousins Leon and Beatrice. Their third child, Felix, was born shortly before her eighth birthday. She saw them often, especially since they lived in England.

Ursula still spent time with Nymphadora over the summer, especially as she got older, and her cousin would ramble on and on about Hogwarts, letting Ursula soak up every word. In addition to her friend Charlie’s dragon obsession, he was becoming quite good at Quidditch. Andromeda and Ted continued to teach Ursula, particularly about the Muggle world. She needed it, especially with the lessons from her governess, the beliefs of the Malfoys, and the increasing pressure from her grandparents to represent the House of Black.

Druella died when Ursula was nine. Cygnus took over Ursula’s lessons to prepare her to inherit. Before she passed, one of her missions was to introduce Ursula to the boys she thought would make a good match. She considered Lucian Bole, Terrence Higgs, and Adrian Pucey, three sons of pureblood society, but her eyes were set on a match from one of the sacred twenty-eight families. Despite Narcissa’s insistence that Ursula did not need to consider suitors at such a young age, before Druella died she made sure she had examined and vetted all possible candidates, determined to plan for Ursula’s future.

Marcus Flint she didn’t like ー Druella thought the way he behaved was not up to the level she was looking for. Jacob Selwyn was a better choice in Druella’s mind, snobby and uptight to the bone. Lewis Burke was another promising candidate, as he was more laid back than Jacob but just as proper. A proper pureblood, Druella believed. There were other candidates, but her favorite was Hadrian Rowle, a tall, blond boy set to inherit a fortune from his father. He was bound for Durmstrang, but at every party, every dinner he attended, he and Ursula always struck up a conversation. They were both children, neither of whom really understood what their families had planned. Ignorant of this, they were just friends.

On the other hand, because of this, Madam Tripe’s lessons had advanced, particularly when it came to dancing and good conduct. Ursula spoke fluid French at this point. When she was nine, she and Vanessa were joined by another family friend, Gemma Farley. She had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes and got on fairly well with the other girls.

When Ursula was ten, discussion arose about sending her to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts. Despite the Blacks having gone to Hogwarts for centuries, Lucius and Narcissa were considering sending her abroad, knowing that Beauxbatons had a reputation for educating young women in ladylike pursuits.

“It might be good for her,” said Narcissa one evening. “Her French is quite good, and what better way for her to improve?”

“She would definitely grow up properly at Beauxbatons,” agreed Lucius, “but I’m afraid we need her father’s opinion.”

They wrote to Ken, and his response was swift and clear. He wanted Ursula to go to Hogwarts, end of discussion. It was one of few things he had taken a hard stance on when it came to raising Ursula, but education was no joke to him.

“This time next year, we’ll be at Hogwarts,” said Vanessa. The three girls often brought up Hogwarts while they worked. Ursula had told Vanessa that she might be going to Beauxbatons and Vanessa had simply said no, as if that was all it took. She was delighted when Ursula said she would be going to Hogwarts.

“We’ll be in Slytherin,” said Gemma with conviction.

Of course, they had already had this exact conversation, and more than once. All of their families ー with the exception of the Scamanders ー had been in Slytherin for generations. Privately, Ursula had fears about being placed in one of the other three houses. She wanted to be in Slytherin like her mother, but her father was a Hufflepuff and her grandfather a Ravenclaw, and she knew the rest of her family would not be pleased if she did not become a Slytherin.

Ursula’s eleventh birthday was Sunday, May 14th, 1989. The day dawned sunny and warm, and the scent of flowers wafted through her open window from the garden below. She stretched, and Betelgeuse, who had been asleep beside her, woke and stretched as well. She scratched behind his ears for a moment, and he purred loudly.

Now full grown, Betelgeuse was a massive Kneazle, with fluffy black fur flecked with grey and enormous orange eyes. He had taken to hunting beetles, for which he was quite good. There had been a few times when he had found one of their guests so untrustworthy that he hissed and swiped at them, and only Ursula could pick him up and carry him away when such a thing happened.

“Morning Beej,” she said, using his nickname.

Ursula took her time getting dressed, particularly to brush her hair, which fell down her back in loose, shiny curls. When she was ready she headed downstairs, Betelgeuse trotting along beside her.

“Dobby!” she called, and the house elf appeared.

“Yes Mistress Ursula?” The elf stared up at her with large green eyes.

“Would you please bring Betelgeuse’s breakfast into the dining room this morning?”

“Yes Mistress Ursula, Dobby can do that!”

“Thank you Dobby,” said Ursula, and he disappeared.

Only Lucius was in the dining room when she entered, and he was busy reading the Daily Prophet.

“Good morning Uncle,” Ursula said as she sat down. Weesy the house elf served her breakfast, while Dobby set Betelgeuse’s dish in the corner by the window.

“Good morning Ursula,” said Lucius, taking a sip of his coffee. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” she said, before taking a bite of her pancakes.

“Ursula!” It was Draco, who would be nine in two weeks, running into the dining room excitedly. He gave Ursula a hug before sitting down across from her. “Happy birthday!”

“Morning Draco,” she replied, smiling at him. “Good morning Aunt Narcissa.”

Narcissa had just arrived, and she smiled at her niece as she sat down at the end of the table. “Happy birthday dear. What time does your father arrive?”

“Eleven,” said Ursula. Her father was coming for lunch, and then she would have a party at dinner. It was  _ her  _ birthday party, but it was still a formal event. When it came to guests, Vanessa and Gemma were among her only friends, and the party would be filled with pureblood children and their parents that Lucius and Narcissa thought were the right kind of company.

She spent most of the morning in the garden, playing with the peacocks or wandering among the flowers. Betelgeuse followed her dutifully, stalking beetles and batting at butterflies. His large ears swiveled this way and that, and his plumed tail bounced jauntily through the air. It was only when Weesy fetched her for her father’s arrival that she came back inside.

“Dad!”

She went running up to him (though she knew she wasn’t supposed to run in the house) and he caught her, laughing and hugging her.

“Happy birthday little one!” said Ken, setting her down and picking up the two large bags he had been carrying. “You’ve grown since I last saw you! Where’s Beej?”

As if in answer, Betelgeuse trotted in to see him and Ken scratched his back. Narcissa came down the stairs, followed by Draco, who was excited to see Ken.

“It’s so nice to see you again!” Narcissa said. Ken inclined his head to her.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Hello Draco! Ursula tells me your birthday is in a couple of weeks, so I brought you a little something.” Ken handed Draco a box wrapped in blue paper and Draco thanked him several times.

“I believe we have an assortment of presents waiting in the sitting room for Ursula to open,” said Narcissa. “Draco, why don’t you go with them while I fetch your father?”

Draco led them into the sitting room, where a small pile of presents waited on the coffee table. Ken emptied the bags he was carrying, adding two large boxes, a hatbox, and several smaller packages to the table. Narcissa returned with Lucius moments later.

“These are from your grandfather,” said Narcissa, handing Ursula a heavy package and a little black box. Ursula opened the package first, revealing a thick hardcover book.

“It’s a book about pureblood achievements in history!” she said, flicking through the first couple of pages. It was just the kind of gift she would expect from her grandfather. She set it aside and turned to the little black box. Opening it, she found an ornate bejeweled brooch. The card that came with it explained that it had been Druella’s. “It’s very pretty.”

Lucius handed her a thin package wrapped in silver paper. Ursula carefully unwrapped it, preserving the pretty paper. It was a thin green book, entitled Quidditch Through the Ages.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Ursula.

“I also got you a subscription to the Daily Prophet,” said Lucius, “so you can keep up with important news while at school.”

“Thank you Uncle,” said Ursula, still staring down at the book. “For the book and the newspaper.”

It was Narcissa’s turn, and she handed Ursula a large box with a big green bow, a smaller box tied with a matching ribbon, and a thin, flexible package. Ursula opened the package first, revealing a colorful notebook.

“It’s a planner,” explained Narcissa, “to remind you of important dates and to keep track of assignments. It changes color and talks.”

Ursula thanked her aunt and moved on to the smaller of the two boxes, which was wide but flat. She undid the ribbon and opened the box, her breath catching. A gorgeous blue necklace and a pair matching earrings lay on a little cushion.

“Wow,” she said, fingering the necklace. “It’s stunning. Thank you so much!”

Narcissa’s last gift, the larger box, was packed with a variety of headbands, hair clips and ties, bows, and ribbons in a rainbow of colors, and Ursula sincerely thanked her aunt for all of the wonderful gifts.

“My turn!” said Draco. He handed her a heavy package wrapped a little messily in striped paper. Ursula unwrapped it, feeling the pages of a book. It wasn’t just a book. It was a book about  _ dragons _ .

Ursula hugged her cousin, clutching the book to her chest in delight. “You’ll always be my favorite dragon!”

Ken picked up a stack of gifts that had all been tied together with a pretty pink ribbon. “This is from Newt and Tina.”

Ursula opened the top gift, pulling out a couple of round bells that jingled when she picked them up. At the noise, Betelgeuse came running in, jumping up on her lap and batting the bells. Ursula laughed and pulled out the card.

“They’re for you, Beej,” she said, moving him off her lap. The second box, full of additional cat toys, was also for him. Ursula opened the last box to see a variety of seeds and bulbs in neat rows packed inside.”

“It’s a bunch of different magical plants,” explained Ken. “All safe ones. It’s for the garden.”

“I love it,” said Ursula, examining the seeds for a Flutterby bush.

Ken picked up a very large box with a comically small bow on top. “This one is from Laurie and Maggie.”

Ursula pulled back the flaps of the box. She saw chocolate bars and crackers, boxes and bags and packages of all the snacks and sweets she had come to love when in America, snacks that weren’t available in Britain. She laughed and said she’d write a letter thanking them for such a great gift.

Her father picked up the round blue hatbox with a fabric bow on top and handed it to her, unable to suppress a mischievous grin from spreading across his face. Ursula opened it tentatively, then laughed when she saw what was inside. She pulled out a white cowboy hat and immediately put it on.

“Thanks dad!” she said, still laughing, as Ken handed her a thick package. She unwrapped it, revealing a title written in silver ink across a mat black cover. “Constellations!” she squealed. It was a book about constellations and the stars that made them up. She beamed up at her father. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

The very last gift was a long, thin box with a dark green lid.

“Open it,” said Ken. “It might not work, and if it doesn’t it’s no problem and I’ll buy you another, but I thought it was worth a try.”

Ursula took off the lid of the box and pulled back the wide maroon ribbons, underneath which lay a wand. She stared at it for a moment in awe.

“It’s cedar,” said Ken, “with a thunderbird tail feather core, which Ollivander doesn’t use. Now that you’re eleven, it’s time for you to have a wand.”

Ursula picked it up, enjoying the way the wood felt in her hand. Her fingers felt warm. She gave the wand a small swish, and a shower of silver sparks poured from the end, popping like firecrackers and disappearing before they reached the ground.

“I’ll take that as a sign,” said Ken. “It’s a match!”

“It’s perfect,” said Ursula, and she turned and gave him a hug. “Thank you dad.”

“Lunch is ready Masters and Mistresses,” squeaked Dobby. “Dobby and Weesy served it outside like Mistress Ursula requested.”

“Thank you Dobby,” chorused Ursula and Ken. Ursula was normally the only one who thanked the house elves, and the Malfoys looked a little uncomfortable when Ken did as well. They all headed outside once Ursula had tucked her wand safely back in its box. She didn’t take off her cowboy hat.

It was a beautiful day outside, and after a delicious lunch Weesy brought out a Victoria sponge cake topped with eleven candles. Ursula hadn’t explained why she chose the cake ー it was a common British cake that they often had, after all ー but it was the first one she and Aunt Andromeda made together. After singing Happy Birthday ー in which Ken revealed his loud and impressive singing voice ー Weesy sliced the cake and served it.

Ursula gazed around at her family, feeling happy and content on her birthday. She wished her mother was here, but she was so glad she could spend her birthday with her family, even if it wasn’t all of them.

All too soon, it was time for Ken to leave. He hugged Ursula and kissed her head, promising he would visit over the summer and take her to Diagon Alley in a few months. Once he was gone, Ursula gathered up her gifts and took them to her room, where she spent the rest of the afternoon reading her new books and admiring her new wand.

In the evening, she could hear guests beginning to arrive for the party, and after making sure Betelgeuse was shut away happily playing with his new toys, she headed downstairs. She wore a new dress and the earrings and necklace Narcissa had gotten her. Her hair was held back by silver hair clips, and a smile grew on her face as she spotted her two friends waiting for her.

“Happy birthday!” chorused Vanessa and Gemma, both giving her a hug.

“You look so pretty!” gushed Vanessa.

“What did you get?” asked Gemma.

“Aunt Narcissa gave me this necklace and these earrings,” said Ursula. “I got a couple of books that I’m excited to read, and some seeds for planting, but the best thing was that my father gave me a wand!”

They both gasped.

“Does it work for you?” asked Gemma. “My father said wands aren’t always right. He wouldn’t get me one for my birthday, but when he took me to get one for Christmas it took  _ ages _ .”

“It’s perfect,” said Ursula.

Vanessa stared at them both enviously. “My parents won’t let me get one until my letter comes,” she pouted. “Even though I’m already eleven.”

The three girls circled through the party. They saw the Greengrass sisters, the elder of whom was Draco’s age, and the Parkinson girl. There was ten year old Catherine Shaw, whose family wasn’t in the sacred twenty-eight but who were quite rich. All of the children at the party had yet to attend Hogwarts, because those who were of age were off at school. Hadrian Rowle was finishing up his first year of Durmstrang, so he wasn’t there, but Jacob Selwyn was. Adrian Pucey was there, as was Draco’s friend Theodore Nott. The party, despite being for Ursula’s birthday, was mostly adults. She saw the Yaxleys, the Burkes, the Rosiers, and more.

She got a chance to thank her grandfather for the book and for the brooch, but once she did so she was introduced to the man he was talking to, a heavyset man who was nearly bald. Horace Slughorn talked at great length for several minutes about how wonderful a witch her mother had been, and further lamented that he had retired before teaching Ursula when Cygnus informed him that her father was a Scamander. She smiled and thanked him, before using Adrian Pucey, who was passing by, as an excuse to end the rather one sided conversation so she could talk to him.

The house elves scurried about, refilling drinks and doing their best not to be seen. There was another cake brought out during the party, but without any candles. The Malfoys would never have gotten their important party guests to sing Happy Birthday, and Ursula didn’t expect them to. After a long night of having fun talking with her friends, they both left, the other party guests filtered out, and Ursula retired upstairs to sleep, exhausted after her birthday.

Draco’s birthday was celebrated just a few weeks later, and he was delighted with the assortment of American snacks Ken had given him. Shortly after that, Narcissa took Ursula to the cemetery to lay flowers on her mother’s grave. Nymphadora returned home for the summer and gave Ursula a bone cracking hug. She celebrated getting an ‘Outstanding’ or ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on all of her NEWTs, and as a treat Andromeda took them into London. Ken stopped by and took Ursula to Dorset again to see his family. His brother Bat came as well and Ursula got to see her cousins ー eight year old Leon, six year old Beatrice, and three year old Felix.

Ursula’s lessons with Madam Tripe continued throughout the summer, and she and the other girls began counting down the days until they could go to Hogwarts, if only to escape her. They waited and waited for their letters to arrive, but it wasn’t until the end of July that their wishes were finally granted.

The morning of Monday, July 24th, Ursula was woken by Betelgeuse, meowing much louder than usual. She rubbed her eyes, getting out of bed to see what had caused him to be so agitated. She stopped in her tracks.

There was an owl tapping at her window.

Ursula moved Betelgeuse and opened the window, allowing the handsome tawny owl to land on a chair. Betelgeuse watched the owl with orange eyes, his tail swishing back and forth. She took the letter from the owl, her heart beating fast. Her eyes fell on the yellowish envelope, at the address written in emerald green ink.

**Ms. U. Black,**

**The Fourth Room On The Second Floor,**

**Malfoy Manor,**

**Wiltshire**

“Weesy!”

The house elf appeared with a crack.

“Yes Mistress Ursula?” she asked.

“Please make sure this owl is fed and given something to drink,” Ursula said. Weesy took the owl and disappeared.

Ursula turned the letter over, lifting the red wax seal that bore the Hogwarts crest. She pulled out the letter, written in the same green ink.

**Hogwarts School**

**of** **Witchcraft** **and** **Wizardry**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,**

**Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards.)**

**Dear Ms. Black,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A train will depart at 11:00 AM from Platform 9 and** **_¾_ ** **at King’s Cross Station in London, England on the 1st of September. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall,**

**Deputy Headmistress**


	9. Diagon Alley

Just over a week after receiving her letter, it was finally time for Ursula to go to Diagon Alley to buy her school supplies. Narcissa would be the one taking her, and her father was meeting them there. He was staying in a flat that had once belonged to Cassiopeia above one of the shops.

“Ursula! Are you ready?”

“I’m coming!”

“Don’t forget your wand!”

Ursula hurried down the stairs to join Narcissa in the front hall. She was bringing her wand to Ollivander’s just to make sure it would work properly. Narcissa Apparated them into London, and in a flash they were through the Leaky Cauldron and staring at a brick wall. Narcissa tapped the wall three times with her wand. The brick she touched quivered ー a small hole appeared in the middle, growing wider and wider ー and a second later they were facing a large archway that opened onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

Diagon Alley never failed to amaze Ursula. They stepped through the archway and it shrank until it had disappeared behind them, leaving only a solid wall. Potage’s Cauldron Shop was the first shop they passed, with a stack of cauldrons out front. They passed Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, Eeylops Owl Emporium ー a dark shop filled with low, soft hooting ー and Quality Quidditch Supplies. There were shops selling books and robes and telescopes, all of which were bright and inviting, with colorful signs, packed with witches and wizards in multicolored robes.

They met Ursula’s father on the steps of Gringotts ー a snowy white building that towered above the other little shops. Ken hugged his daughter and led them up the stairs. Besides the burnished bronze doors, in a uniform of red and gold, stood a goblin, who bowed as they walked inside. They faced a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

_ Enter stranger but take heed _

_ Of what awaits the sin of greed, _

_ For those who take but do not earn _

_ Shall pay dearly in their turn. _

_ So if you seek beneath our floors _

_ A treasure that was never yours, _

_ Stranger you have been warned, beware _

_ Of finding more than treasure there. _

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. They approached the counter.

“Madam Malfoy,” said a goblin promptly. “Madam Black. And…?”

“Kenneth Scamander,” said Ken. The goblin eyed him, but approved of his last name.

“Which vaults are you visiting today, Madam Malfoy?” asked the goblin.

“The Black family vault,” said Narcissa. “And the vault of Cassiopeia Black.”

“Very well,” said the goblin. “Urgrot!”

Another goblin appeared and led them toward one of the doors leading off the hall. Urgrot held the door open for them, and they found themselves in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. Urgrot whistled, and a little cart came hurtling up the railroad tracks in front of them. They all climbed in. The cart rattled as it hurtled through a maze of twisting passages, deeper and deeper underground. Ken whooped and hollered as the cart moved at breakneck speed.

At last, when they were deep below the surface, the cart came to a stop in front of a small door in the passage wall.

“Vault seven hundred and thirty-four,” said Urgrot. “The former vault of Cassiopeia Black. Now the vault of Ursula Black.” He stroked the door with a long finger and it melted away.

If it had not been clear before, it was certainly clear now that Cassiopeia was independently wealthy, and had left Ursula a sizable fortune. Inside her vault were mounds of gold Galleons, stacks of silver Sickles, and columns of bronze Knuts. There were pieces of jewelry set with precious stones and a number of potions in crystal flasks. A copy of Cassiopeia’s will sat on a shelf in the corner.

Ursula swept a pile of coins into a purse. She felt strange knowing that all of this stuff belonged to her. When she had finished, they all got back into the cart and went hurtling further down into the caves below Gringotts. The Black family vault was much deeper, much larger, and much older. It was not guarded by a dragon, like some of the old vaults, but the Black family vault was guarded by a dozen protective enchantments that were near impossible to break. Many would prove deadly to even try.

Urgrot pressed his whole hand against the door, and it melted away to reveal a large cave crammed floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, jewels and jewelry, tapestries and armor, potions in jeweled flasks and suits of armor, and even a few swords and crowns. Any awkwardness she felt in her mother’s vault was drowned out by sheer awe when she saw the Black family vault. She had been here once or twice before, but it was only after Druella’s death that she began to understand what she was set to inherit.

Ursula took a few more coins, but mostly they were there to retrieve several items for Cygnus. Only those who were related, by blood or marriage, to the Black family could touch the items in the vault, so Ken was warned not to even bump into anything. When Narcissa and Ursula had gathered what they came for, Urgrot pressed his hand against the door once more ー the door had sealed them in ー and soon the rickety cart was hurtling upward at a blinding speed.

“Where to first?” asked Ken, as they stood blinking on the steps of Gringotts.

“I need treats for Betelgeuse,” said Ursula, pointing to the Magical Menagerie, which was two stoors down on their right.

“Ollivanders is down that way as well,” said Ken as they set off.

While Ursula paid for Betelgeuse’s treats, Ken popped into Gambol & Japes Wizarding Joke Shop next door, returning with a decent sized bag. Narcissa looked disapproving, but he said nothing of his purchase and merely winked at Ursula. They strolled further down the street toward Ollivanders, with Ken making a note to pop into Obscurus Books on the way back.

Ollivanders was narrow and shabby, with faded gold letters declaring  _ Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. _ It was tiny and dusty, empty except for a single spindly chair. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Ursula flinched. The voice belonged to Mr. Ollivander, an old man with wide, pale eyes.

“Hello Mr. Ollivander,” said Ken brightly.

“Ah, Mr. Scamander,” said Mr. Ollivander. “Is this your…”

“Daughter,” supplied Ken as Mr. Ollivander pointed at Ursula. “Ursula Black. We want you to take a look at her wand and tell us more about it.”

“So you have come to find out more,” said Mr. Ollivander. “Where is the wand in question?”

Ursula handed it to him. He took it delicately, rolling it between his fingers.

“Twelve and a quarter inches,” he said. “Cedar. Slightly springy… and with a thunderbird tail feather core. I haven’t seen one in quite some time. This core makes a wand difficult to master, but very powerful, and excellent for Transfiguration work. Like the birds these feathers come from, wands like this can sense danger, and have been known to fire curses preemptively or on their own. As for cedar…”

Mr. Ollivander eyed Ursula thoughtfully. He didn’t blink.

“Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find a strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father used to say ‘Never fool the cedar carrier’ and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them. Good luck, Ms. Black…”

“Thank you sir,” said Ursula softly, as he handed her wand back to her.

The next place they went was Obscurus Books, a small bookstore and publishing office who had published  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ way back in 1927, a book that no doubt continued to make them money to this day.

“Hello Mr. Scamander!” said the shopkeeper at once when they entered. “How is your grandfather?”

“He’s excellent, thank you!” said Ken. “This is my daughter, Ursula, and her aunt Narcissa Malfoy.”

“How nice to meet you!” said the shopkeeper enthusiastically, shaking Ursula’s hand. “If you ever need a book published, please just let us know. What brings you here today?”

“I thought I’d bring Ursula in here so she could pick out a few books to take with her to school,” said Ken.

“Wonderful! Let me know if you need any help.” The shopkeeper smiled and left them to explore the store.

After browsing for a while, Ursula picked out three books. One was a novel ー she needed more than spellbooks or she’d get bored ー and another was  _ Hogwarts: A History _ by Bathilda Bagshot. The third was about household magical creatures, as in Kneazles, Crups, and others that could be kept as pets.

“I ‘spect you’ve already got a copy of  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ , eh?” said the shopkeeper as Ursula paid for her books. “Probably signed by your great grandfather?”

As a matter of fact she did, and he had, but she said none of this to the shopkeeper and simply smiled and accepted her change. He wrapped her books in a piece of brown paper and tied a length of string around it all.

“Where to next?” said Ken as they reentered the sunny cobblestone street. “How about Madam Malkin’s?”

“Or Twilfitt and Tattings,” put in Narcissa. “It’s further up the street behind us.”

“I think Madam Malkin’s will be just fine,” said Ken. Something had changed in his voice, but Ursula didn’t notice.

Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions was an inviting store with racks of dresses, uniforms, robes, and cloaks. Madam Malkin herself was a squat, smiling witch dressed head to toe in lavender.

“Hello dear,” said Madam Malkin. “Hogwarts?”

Ursula nodded and followed her to the back of the shop, where two small stools stood in front of a row of large mirrors. One footstool was occupied by a very small girl with blonde hair, whose long black robes were being pinned by a second witch. Ursula stood on the other stool as Madam Malkin slipped a long robe over her head and began to pin it to the right length.

“Hello,” said Ursula softly to the girl next to her.

“Hi!” she said, beaming up at Ursula. “I’m Blossom, Blossom Ash. Are you a first year too?”

Ursula nodded. “I’m Ursula Black. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m so happy I met another first year!” said Blossom. “I was ever so excited when I got my letter! My mum went to Hogwarts, you see, but my dad is a Muggle. They’re waiting for me outside. What about you?” She said this all very fast.

“I’m here with my dad and my aunt,” said Ursula. “My mother, er… passed away… when I was little.”

“Oh I am sorry to hear that!” said Blossom. “But I’m glad you’ve got your dad and your aunt.”

“That’s you done, my dear,” said the other witch, and Blossom hopped down from the stool.

“I’ll see you at Hogwarts, Ursula!” she said, waving.

Ursula waved back, smiling. She had the most peculiar feeling that she had just made a new friend. Soon enough, Madam Malkin had finished, and Ursula purchased her uniform.

“How about you take Ursula to Flourish & Blotts to buy her schoolbooks while I go to Knockturn Alley?” suggested Narcissa to Ken. “I have some things to pick up from Borgin & Burkes.”

“Alright,” said Ken. “We’ll meet you at the ice cream parlour.”

Narcissa turned and headed down another street, where the lack of colorful signs and inviting storefronts made it look dark and grim. Meanwhile, Ursula and Ken headed into Flourish & Blotts, were lots of Hogwarts students perused the shelves looking for their school books. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Ursula had just grabbed a copy of  _ Magical Theory _ by Adalbert Waffling when someone shouted her name.

“Ursula!”

She jumped, and turned to find Nymphadora grinning at her, her hair a deep magenta today.

“Dora!” said Ursula, giving her cousin an excited hug.

“You finally get to go to Hogwarts!” said Nymphadora, squeezing her shoulders. “Bet you won’t be in Hufflepuff like me, though. Come with me! Charlie’s here and there’s some people you should meet!”

Before she could protest, Nymphadora had seized her wrist and was pulling her through the store, weaving between customers until she arrived at a crowd of redheads.

“Hello Ursula!” said Charlie, his freckled face split into a grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hi Charlie,” she said, giving him a little wave. He was standing with three other redheaded boys, two of whom were twins.

“Everyone, this is my favorite cousin, Ursula Black!” said Nymphadora. There was only a small reaction from the redheads.

“Ursula, this is my brother Percy, he’s a third year,” said Charlie, pointing at a boy with glasses and a stack of books clutched in his arms. “And this is Fred and George, who are first years like you.”

“I’m George!” said the one he had called Fred.

“And I’m Fred!” said the other.

Together they said, “Our own brother can’t even tell us apart!”

Ursula was a little intimidated by their enthusiasm, but after a moment both twins’ faces split into identical grins.

“Just kidding!” they chorused.

“I really am Fred,” said the first one.

“And I’m George,” said the second.

“It’s nice to meet you Ursula!” they finished.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she said, before turning back to Nymphadora. “It was great to see you Dora, but I’ve got to finish shopping.” She waved again at the others. “Bye Charlie. I’ll see you all at Hogwarts!”

“ _ ‘Dora?’ _ ” said the twins incredulously, rounding on Nymphadora. “She makes us call her Tonks!”

Ursula’s cousin was blushing, her hair moving fast from pink to red, but Ursula was already moving before Nymphadora could react. She winked at the twins, who grinned back, ducked around another customer, and vanished into an aisle.

“Got everything?” asked Ken when she rejoined him a few minutes later at the front of the shop. She clutched a heavy stack of books. He was flipping absentmindedly through a cookbook and when she appeared he pulled out her supply list. “Let’s check.  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One _ …  _ A History of Magic _ …  _ Magical Theory _ …  _ A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration _ …  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _ …  _ Magical Drafts and Potions _ … you’ve already got  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ … and  _ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection _ . You’re all set!”

They headed up to the counter to pay. Her father brought the cookbook with him to buy. The books were all wrapped up and put in a bag, and made for a cumbersome load.

“Doesn’t look like Narcissa is back yet,” said Ken as they crossed the street to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. “Tell you what, let’s go next door and get your equipment first.”

Ursula purchased a nice set of brass scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope, as well as a set of glass vials.

“The telescope’s nothing special,” said Ken, “but if you go into NEWT Astronomy I’ll buy you a really nice one.”

By the time they finished, Narcissa had arrived at the ice cream parlour. Ken talked her into getting an ice cream for herself and she settled on mint chocolate chip, while Ken bought two large pistachio and raspberry ice creams with chocolate sauce for him and Ursula. They sat in the shade of an umbrella as they ate their ice cream. Ursula was having a fantastic day. Buying all the things she needed for Hogwarts only made it more real that she was going. 

The next store they went to was a small, packed shop next door to Flourish & Blotts that smelled like an inkpot to buy parchment, quills, and ink. The striped awning had Amanuensis Quills written above it in large, cursive letters.

Ursula selected four elegant quills, one crow, two eagle, and one with a swan feather that Narcissa spotted. While her father purchased parchment ー it came in tight scrolls, and she would need a lot ー Ursula picked out two regular inkpots full of black ink and (at Ken’s urging) a bottle of ink that changed color when you wrote. Ursula was carrying a number of bags now, all filled with brown paper packages and scrolls of parchment tied with string.

The group of three strolled down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron and entered Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, which made up for its horrible smell ー bad eggs and rotted cabbage ー with the fascinating barrels of slimy stuff that covered the floor and jars of herbs that marched along the shelves. Ken asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potions ingredients for Ursula, while she stared around at the shop. The barrel nearest her held glittering black beetle’s eyes for five Knuts a scoop. There were dried roots and bright powers along the walls, and bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws suspended from the ceiling. She even saw silver unicorn horns for twenty-one Galleons each.

“All that’s left on your list is a cauldron,” said Ken as they exited the musty shop. “And we need to get you a trunk.”

They crossed the street to Potage’s Cauldron Shop, and five minutes later they emerged, with Ursula carrying a small pewter cauldron. C.Q.’s Trunk & Luggage Shop was right next door and Ursula chose a handsome black trunk with silver fastenings and her first initial and last name stamped on the end. Narcissa ordered it to be delivered to Malfoy Manor, rather than have to carry such a large and heavy item around.

“I believe that’s everything,” said Narcissa, double checking Ursula’s list.

“Not quite,” said Ken. He looked at his daughter. “I know you already have Betelgeuse, but I think you should have an owl as well. Narcissa?”

“I quite agree,” said Narcissa, which surprised Ursula. “Until Draco comes to Hogwarts, you wouldn’t have an owl of your own, and while you could always use a school owl… I think it would be better just to get you one.”

Ursula got an extra burst of excitement as they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. It was dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. There were rows and rows of cages filled with barn owls, great horned owls, and snowy owls. Ursula even saw a bat or a crow here or there. The birds hooted, rustled their feathers, or slept with their heads tucked under their wings.

“Go ahead and pick one,” said Narcissa. Ursula strolled through the rows, seeing lots and lots of pretty birds but none that were quite what she wanted.

Her eyes landed on a lovely Eurasian Eagle-owl, with tan, brown, and black speckled feathers, round orange eyes that watched Ursula suspiciously, and great tufts of feathers above her eyes like angry eyebrows. The owl moved around in her cage a little, adjusting her wings. She reminded Ursula of a stately old woman.

“Aye, she’s a beauty,” said the witch behind the counter, when Ursula brought the owl’s cage up. “She’ll give you a good nip if you displease her, too, but you’re the first she’s taken a shine to, I reckon.”

“What are you going to call her?” asked Ken as they all left Eeylops, Ursula now carrying her owl in a large cage.

“Agatha,” she decided.

“An interesting choice,” said Narcissa. “Is there any particular reason you named her that?”

“She reminds me of a shrewd old woman,” answered Ursula honestly, causing Ken to laugh.

Ursula and Narcissa bid Ken goodbye as they headed back through the archway into the Leaky Cauldron, the former giving him a tight hug and thanking him for a wonderful day. Her arms laden with purchases, Ursula took Narcissa’s hand as her aunt spun on the spot and Disapparated.

Agatha gave a loud hoot when they arrived back at Malfoy Manor It was not yet dinnertime, and Weesy helped Ursula carry her bags up to her room.

“What do you think, Beej?” asked Ursula, tipping her bags onto her bed. Betelgeuse inspected Agatha and her cage with narrowed eyes, and as Agatha’s eyes followed him Ursula got the sense she was studying him as well. At last her two pets seemed to reach a mutual agreement, as both looked at her with orange eyes.

Ursula had Weesy bring up a perch for Agatha ー the Malfoys had an Owlery of course, that really just housed their own owl, but Ursula wanted a spot for Agatha in her room as well ー and then opened her window and let Agatha fly out and explore. She stacked up all of her packages and parcels and set her wand on her bedside table.

“Dinnertime, Mistress Ursula,” said Dobby, appearing suddenly.

“Thank you Dobby,” said Ursula. She took a last look at her empty owl cage, her pile of Hogwarts supplies, her brand new robes, and her sleeping Kneazle with a great sense of happiness and satisfaction before heading downstairs for dinner and shutting the door behind her.


	10. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

The month before Ursula got to leave for Hogwarts passed quickly, and soon enough it was the morning of September 1st. Ursula had double checked and triple checked that she had packed everything, and Lucius had even gotten someone from the Ministry to drive them to King’s Cross. Of course, Wiltshire to London was a long drive, so they were Apparating to the Leaky Cauldron first.

Ursula was filled to the brim with excitement. She closed her trunk, fastened the lock on Agatha’s cage, and shut Betelgeuse in his wicker basket. She brought her two pets downstairs while Dobby took care of her trunk and then Lucius Apparated the two of them to the Leaky Cauldron. Narcissa and Draco appeared right behind them, and in no time at all Ursula’s trunk had been loaded into the back of the Ministry car and they were off, weaving through the crowded London streets.

When they arrived at King’s Cross Station, Ursula’s trunk was loaded onto a trolley, and the family of four headed towards the barrier between Platform Nine and Ten, weaving through the many Muggle commuters. Looking up at the clock, the train would leave in approximately a quarter of an hour.

“Alright Ursula,” said Lucius. “You first.”

Taking a deep breath, Ursula pushed her trolley slowly towards the barrier, gathering speed as she went. She was almost running by the time she reached the wall, and forced herself not to close her eyes in fear of a collision.

She emerged onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters with a gasp. The platform was packed with people, with smoke from the scarlet steam engine drifting overhead. There was a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, and moments later the Malfoy family had made it through as well.

Ursula heard the hooting of owls over the babble and chatter coming from the crowd, and saw cats of every color trying to escape their baskets or wriggle out of their owner’s grasp. There was the scraping of heavy trunks as they were loaded onto the train, and more than a few tearful goodbyes from parents and younger siblings.

Draco was one such person, and he looked up at Ursula with tear filled grey eyes.

“Don’t go,” he begged, clutching her arm. “Please don’t go. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll write to you, I promise,” Ursula said, giving him a hug. “I’ll miss you too. You’ll always be my favorite dragon, Draco.”

“Ursula!”

It was Vanessa, with her parents and younger brother in tow. She had three brothers in total, two older and one younger, but the older two seemed to have vanished among the crowd. She gave Ursula a hug and was practically bouncing up and down. Her father shook Lucius’s hand.

“The girls are leaving today,” he said in a gruff voice. Vanessa’s father was a Ministry man who had little patience for wasting time, as evident when he checked his pocket watch and then checked it again to be sure. He bent down and hugged his daughter swiftly. “Goodbye my girl. Be good. Be in Slytherin. Make us proud.”

“We love you,” added her mother, wrapping her in a tear stained hug. Vanessa’s little brother gave her a hug as well, but it was perfunctory.

Lucius gave Ursula a hasty hug. “Have a good term. We’ll see you at Christmas.”

“You come from a long, proud line of Slytherins,” reminded Narcissa, giving Ursula a gentle hug. “Your mother would be proud.” Her smile wavered, and Ursula could tell Draco wasn’t the only emotional member of the family. “Have fun at school.”

Draco gave Ursula one more tight hug. The carriages were filling with students, and it was Lucius’s turn to check his watch.

“Nearly eleven,” he said. “You’d best get on board. To help you with your luggage…”

One of Lucius’s friends seized his son, a second year, and pushed him forward.

“Terence will help,” he said, “won’t you son?”

“Yes father,” said Terence. Unfortunately, Ursula was taller, and probably stronger, than he was. “Hey, Peregrine!”

With the combined efforts of Terence and his friend Peregrine Derrick, Ursula and Vanessa’s trunks were finally lifted onto the train. Ursula had just set Agatha’s cage and Betelgeuse’s basket down in an empty compartment when a familiar voice floated through the open window.

“You’re not going to leave without saying goodbye to me, are you?”

“Dad!” she squealed, and went running back out onto the platform to meet him.

“I told you I’d be here, little one, and here I am!” said Ken, hugging his daughter and spinning her around. “Cowboy hat and all.”

“I’m so glad you came! I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too, little one,” he said, kneeling in front of her. He seemed to be getting a little teary-eyed. “Have fun, have a good term, and I’ll be proud of you no matter what. I love you.”

“I love you too dad,” whispered Ursula. She wished her mom was here.

A whistle sounded.

Ken pressed a kiss to the top of Ursula’s head and hugged her one more time before she jumped aboard the train. She waved to Draco, who was still on the verge of tears, and Lucius and Narcissa, who looked on proudly.

The train began to move. Ursula caught sight of Ted and Andromeda Tonks and waved. They waved back. Vanessa didn’t notice. Ken tossed his cowboy hat in the air and waved wildly with it, and she waved back. She waved back until the train rounded the corner and Platform Nine and Three-Quarters could be seen no more.

“This is it!” said Vanessa excitedly. They were now whizzing past houses, and Ursula hurried to shut the window. Vanessa unlatched her cat’s basket and Delilah, a purebred Turkish Angora with long white fur, jumped out happily. Ursula did the same for Betelgeuse, and he stretched out on the seat next to her.

“This is it,” echoed Ursula.

The compartment door slid open and two boys poked their heads in. The one in the front Ursula recognized: Adrian Pucey, a pale boy with short black hair and blue eyes. The other one, who was taller and had sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes, looked familiar but she couldn’t place him.

“Mind if we join?” asked Adrian.

“Not at all,” said Ursula, picking up Betelgeuse so Adiran had room to sit. She focused on the other boy, who had sat down next to Vanessa, and said, “I’m sure we’ve met before, and I’m dreadfully sorry, but I just don’t remember your name.”

“I’m Cassius Warrington,” he said, scratching the back of his head with his hand. “You’re… Ursula Black, right?”

Ursula nodded.

“And you’re a Shafiq?” said Cassius, looking at Vanessa.

“Vanessa Shafiq,” she said. “How do you do?”

“I think your cat likes me,” said Cassius as Delilah climbed into his lap and curled up for a nap. He had his hands up as if he was afraid to disturb her.

Vanessa huffed. “She’s barely that affectionate with me.”

Across from them Betelgeuse had settled himself between Ursula and Adrian, and after batting briefly at the latter he allowed Adrian to pet him. The view outside the window had changed while they were talking; soon they were out of London, speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.

Other students passed their compartment, some running up and down the corridors and others searching for their friends. Ursula and Vanessa hadn’t seen Gemma and assumed she had found friends in another compartment. Shortly into their train ride, a small boy with dreadlocks came sprinting past, followed by an older boy screaming his head off. The whole thing caused quite a commotion, but after a moment the older boy came trudging angrily back up the corridor, having apparently lost the other boy.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering in the corridor. The compartment door slid open and a smiling, dimpled woman peered in.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

All four students leapt up from their seats. Cassius was the last to rise, having to shift Delilah as best he could. They all bought different things ー the witch had Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Licorice Wands, Cauldron Cakes, and so much more ー and soon they had a large pile of sweets to share.

“I got Morgan le Fay,” said Adrian, unwrapping a Chocolate Frog. “What about you?”

“Ptolemy,” replied Ursula.

Cassius gagged as he got a dirt flavored bean. Vanessa nibbled the end off a light grey bean, discovered it was sardine flavored, and tossed it into the empty Chocolate Frog box that they were using as a discard pile. She picked up an orange bean and was happy to discover it tasted like marmalade.

They had a good time swapping treats and telling stories about their families. Adrian had just one older brother, a fourth year, but Cassius was the eldest of five, with one brother and three sisters. As they talked, the countryside flying past grew wilder. Gone were the neat fields, and they now stared out at woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

“I’m going to the bathroom to change into my uniform,” announced Ursula, opening her trunk.

“I’ll come with you,” said Vanessa. They left the compartment, clutching their neatly folded school uniforms and leaving the boys alone with their cats.

The nearest bathrooms were in the carriage ahead of theirs, and the girls’ lavatory was quite crowded when they arrived. Ursula changed quickly, and as she waited in the corridor for Vanessa another girl ran right into her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, nearly falling over.

“Sorry!” said the other girl, who had dropped her haphazard bundle of clothes. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s quite alright,” said Ursula, steadying herself.

Vanessa emerged, and the two girls headed back to their compartment. Cassius and Adrian had taken advantage of their absence to change as well. Delilah had taken a shine to Cassius and was once more asleep on his lap.

“I don’t know what it is,” said Cassius. “My parents wouldn’t let me get a cat. They got me Merlin.” He pointed at a large cage containing a great grey owl, fast asleep with its head tucked under one wing.

“I named my owl Nimrod,” said Adrian, pulling the sheet off of a large cage. His barn owl hooted softly. “He’s a terrific hunter, which is where I got the name, but he’s also kind of an idiot. He’s super clumsy. I guess the name fits him.”

“It certainly does,” said Ursula. “Agatha is what I named my owl, because she reminds me of a frightening old woman.” That drew some laughs from the boys.

It was getting dark now, and they could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down.

A voice echoed through the train. “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, as it will be taken to the school separately.”

Ursula tucked Betelgeuse back in his basket and Vanessa coaxed Delilah back into hers. They stuffed the last of the sweets into their pockets and joined the crowd of students thronging in the corridor. The train slowed and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a tiny dark platform.

“Firs’ years!”

Ursula jumped. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and an enormous man with a wild bushy beard beamed down at them over the sea of heads.

“Firs’ years over here! C’mon, follow me ー anymore firs’ years? Firs’ years this way! Mind yer step now! Firs’ years, follow me!”

Slipping and stumbling, the first years followed the giant down what could best be described as a steep, narrow path. The darkness on either side of them indicated thick trees. Nobody spoke much, but a few whispers about the giant man popped up here and there.

“Jus’ round this bend is yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts,” the giant called over his shoulder.

“Oooooh!” chorused the first years as the narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

“No more’n four to a boat!” called the giant, pointing to a little fleet of boats sitting in the water by the shore. Adrian hopped in first, then turned to help Ursula and Vanessa, and Cassius climbed in last. “Everyone in?” shouted the giant. “Right then ー FORWARD!”

The little fleet of boats began to move at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. The Weasley twins hooted and hollered and rocked their boat until it nearly tipped over, swearing they had seen the giant squid. Everyone else was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

“Heads down!” yelled the giant man as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Once the giant had checked all the boats, they followed him and his lamp up a passageway in the rock until they came out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and came to a stop in front of the huge oak front door.

“Everyone here?” checked the giant man.

He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	11. The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in deep blue robes stood there. She had a very stern expression and wore square spectacles.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said the giant man.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

She opened the door wide, revealing an enormous entrance hall. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hundreds of voices droned from a doorway to the right, meaning the rest of the school was already there. Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They all crowded in nervously, glancing at one another and fidgeting.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “Before you take your seats in the Great Hall and enjoy the welcome feast, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony. While here, your house will be something like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” Her tone flattened a little on the last word. “Each house has its own proud history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.”

“While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rulebreaking will lose points.” She looked directly at the Weasley twins, who, in addition to chatting rather loudly amongst themselves, looked the most at ease of any of the first years. “I suggest some of you consider that. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house up, which is a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. Smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait.” Her eyes trailed over Cassius’s poorly tied tie and a boy with an incorrectly fastened cloak. “I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.”

“All we have to do is try on a hat,” said Vanessa, trying to reassure herself.

“It’ll be fine,” said Ursula, though she felt just as nervous. She fingered a lock of her hair, twirling it around her finger.

Then several people screamed, causing her to yank painfully on her hair.

About twenty ghosts came streaming through the wall, pearly white and slightly transparent. They mostly glided over the students, giving the unpleasant sensation of being dunked in cold water if they passed through them. The ghosts all looked vastly different. There was a ghost wearing a ruff and tights, what looked like a fat little monk, and even an unpleasant looking ghost covered in silver blood.

“Move along!” came Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice as she returned. “It’s time for the Sorting Ceremony.”

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall, looking down at the students with more interest as they realized the first years were there.

“Form a line,” said Professor McGonagall, “and follow me.”

Ursula got into line behind a tiny girl with fair skin and caramel brown hair, who was in turn behind the boy with dreadlocks. Vanessa followed her as Professor McGonagall led them out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

It was simply stunning. Thousands and thousands of candles floated and flickered over four long tables, where the rest of the school was sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets and at the top of the hall there was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall brought the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring up at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight, and dotted here and there among them the ghosts shone misty silver. Above them was a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars, so beautiful and realistic that it was hard to believe there was a ceiling at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open to the heavens.

“It’s bewitched,” Ursula heard Gemma say, “to look like the sky. It’s very realistic, don’t you think?”

Professor McGonagall placed a pointed wizard’s hat on top of a small four-legged stool in front of the first years. The hat was patched and frayed and very dirty, but everyone in the hall was staring at it. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth ー and the hat began to sing:

_ “Once I was a fledgling hat, _

_ And on a wizard’s hat I sat. _

_ Tall and pointed, without a tear, _

_ I witnessed magic beyond compare. _

_ But the greatest magic I ever saw _

_ Came from four wizards, each with a flaw. _

_ To the four great minds within these walls, _

_ The greatest gift lay in these halls. _

_ For long I’ve been the Sorting Hat, _

_ On every student’s head I’ve sat, _

_ And ne’er once in many years _

_ Have I failed to ease a student’s fears. _

_ For Gryffindors, so brave, so brash, _

_ I had them Sorted in a flash. _

_ Their founder came from wild moor _

_ And, like him, their chivalry is sure. _

_ For Ravenclaws, with wisdom and wit, _

_ Each will surely become a fit. _

_ And like their founder, glen born from, _

_ With originality is how they come. _

_ For Hufflepuffs, loyal and true, _

_ Upon the stool was how I knew. _

_ Their founder came from valley broad _

_ And the students too are worthy of laud. _

_ For Slytherins, ambitious and shrewd, _

_ Inside their heads I quickly viewed. _

_ And like their founder, who came from fen, _

_ ‘Twas a matter not of how but when. _

_ I’ll soon be seated upon your head, _

_ And soon your mind I will have read, _

_ But do not fear what I have to say, _

_ For I’ve sat here and Sorted day after day.” _

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name,” she said, “you will place the hat on your head and sit on the stool to be Sorted. Allen, Benjamin!”

A freckled boy flushed and stumbled out of line. He sat on the stool and put on the hat, which fell right over his eyes. A moment’s pause ー

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Benjamin went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. The ghost of a fat little friar waved merrily at him.

“Ash, Blossom!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and the little blonde girl Ursula had met in Diagon Alley scurried down to sit with Benjamin.

“Bailey, Luca!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Luca as he joined them.

“Barker, Andrew!” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

“Barnes, Edward!” then became a Slytherin. Ursula knew it wouldn’t be long before her name was called now.

“Barrett, Elizabeth!” joined Benjamin and Blossom in Hufflepuff and then Professor McGonagall said, “Black, Ursula!”

She took a deep breath, walked calmly up to the stool, and placed the hat on her head. Her heart was pounding wildly.

_ ‘Well?’ _ said a little voice in her ear.  _ ‘What’ll it be?’ _

Ursula knew the answer.

_ ‘Just like your mother…’ _ whispered the voice, before ー

“SLYTHERIN!”

Perhaps it had been her own voice that had compared her to her mother, reflected Ursula as she hurried to sit beside Edward. She had done it. She had made it into Slytherin. A knot in her chest loosened, and she felt like she belonged.

Professor McGonagall called the next name.

“Brooks, Tilly!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Burton, Amelia!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

Sometimes, Ursula noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once (“Carlyle, Philip!” had barely placed the hat on his head before it called out “SLYTHERIN!”) but for others it took a little while to decide. “Carter, Lewis!” sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Ravenclaw.

“Clarke, Jasper!” went to Hufflepuff and “Davies, Roger!” followed Lewis into Ravenclaw. It took merely seconds for “Diggory, Cedric!” to be Sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Farley, Gemma!”

Ursula watched her take a seat on the stool and jam the hat on her head. A moment passed ー

“SLYTHERIN!”

Gemma, obviously relieved, sat down next to Philip. She was grinning as “Fenharrow, Lilian!” was called.

Lilian was the girl who had bumped into Ursula on the train. She had straight brown hair and a wide smile that stayed on her face even as she skipped nervously up to the stool. A minute passed, and then another.

“SLYTHERIN!” shouted the hat finally.

Lilian dropped into the seat next to Ursula.

“Hi!” she said brightly. Ursula smiled at her.

“Hi,” she replied.

“Foxx, Jack!” and “Gardner, Aiden!” were Sorted into Ravenclaw one after the other. “Hayes, Rumina!” was called, and the tiny brunette who had been in line next to Ursula marched forward and pulled the hat on her head.

“RAVENCLAW!” decided the hat, after nearly a minute of deliberation.

“Holmes, Maya!” became a Hufflepuff and then “Jackson, Ebrel!”, “Johnson, Angelina!”, and the boy with dreadlocks, “Jordan, Lee!” were all Sorted into Gryffindor in quick succession. “Lewis, Ivy!”, “Marwick, Rose!”, “McDaniel, Keira!”, and “Moon, Dennis!” all became Ravenclaws. The blue and bronze table was filling up quickly, and the other tables were beginning to look a bit bare in comparison.

“Morrow, Simon!” and “Ormskirk, Madeline!” became Hufflepuffs and then “Pucey, Adrian!” was called.

“SLYTHERIN!” shouted the hat, and the green and silver table cheered as Adrian sat down next to Gemma. He was their first Slytherin in thirteen people.

“Raynott, Lorna!” joined Ravenclaw, “Rogers, Daniel!” joined Hufflepuff, and “Ryan, Caoimhe!” joined Gryffindor, before “Selwyn, Jacob!” became a Slytherin.

“Shafiq, Vanessa!”

She needn’t have worried. In seconds the hat shouted, “SLYTHERIN!” and Vanessa nearly ran to sit next to Lilian.

There were perhaps a dozen people left now, as “Sloper, Miles!” was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Spinnet, Alicia!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Stanford, Emily!” followed Alicia into Gryffindor moments later, as “Stimpson, Patricia!” was Sorted into Ravenclaw. There really weren’t that many people left now. “Taylor, Callie!” went to Hufflepuff, while “Towler, Kenneth!” went to Gryffindor and “Turner, Marcus!” joined Callie. Only half a dozen first years were left as “Warrington, Cassius!” was called.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Cassius high fived Adrian before sitting down next to Vanessa, grinning broadly.

“Weasley, Fred!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Ursula saw his brothers, Percy and Charlie, congratulating him as he sat down at the Gryffindor table. The same thing happened a minute later as “Weasley, George!” joined his twin to much whooping and hollering.

Only three students left, but all of them ー “West, Daria!”, “White, Sophie!”, and “Yorke, Alexander!” ー went to Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat and the stool away.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, his arms thrown wide. He beamed down at them over half-moon spectacles.

“Welcome!” he said “Welcome to another — or for some of you, your first — year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There will be time for speeches later, so for now, dig in!”

He sat back down, and everyone applauded as the dishes in front of them filled with food. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. Talk slowed as they all began to eat.

“I’m a pureblood, of course,” said Jacob Selwyn, the dark haired boy across from Lilian. “I don’t think the  _ other  _ sort should be allowed in. Sullying the name of wizards, that’s what it is. An insult to those of us who  _ belong _ .”

“Anyone born with magic should be allowed in, regardless of who their parents are,” said Lilian, frowning. “And I’m also a pureblood.”

“I agree,” said Ursula, swallowing a bite of roast beef. “Magic does not need a gatekeeper.”

“That’s a surprising opinion coming from  _ you _ , Black,” said Jacob.

Ursula rolled her eyes and did not respond. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding —

The conversation switched to a less controversial topic: their families.

“I’ve got two siblings,” said Lilian, taking a large slice of treacle tart. “Alice is nine and Miles is seven. What about you?”

“I’m an only child,” said Ursula. “But I’m very close with my cousins. One of them, Draco, is Alice’s age. What do your parents do?”

“My dad’s an editor for a publishing company,” said Lilian, “and my mum is an Auror.”

“That’s really cool,” said Ursula.

“What about you? What do your parents do?”

“Well…” Ursula focused on scooping some trifle onto her plate. “My mum, she um… passed away… when I was little.”

“Oh I’m so sorry!” said Lilian at once.

“It’s fine,” said Ursula, shaking her head. “I live with the Malfoys, who are my aunt and uncle, and my cousin Draco. But I see my dad a lot. He works with thunderbirds in a sanctuary in America.”

“America?” asked Lilian, her eyes round. “Really? That’s awesome! Have you ever been?”

Shortly after Ursula finished describing her most recent trip on Lilian’s urging, the desserts too disappeared. The hall fell silent as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again.

“As we wind our way to the kingdom of sleep, I have just a few short announcements. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden to all, hence its name. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has once again asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the halls between classes.”

Ursula bet this rule was hard to enforce and easily broken, seeing as they were in a magic school.

“Anyone interested in trying out for their house Quidditch team should contact Madam Hooch or their head of house. Tryouts will take place the second week of term. Lastly, we have a new appointment to the staff.”

Professor Dumbledore gestured to a thin man with grey hair who gave a cheery wave. He wore emerald green robes.

“Professor Colobiri has agreed to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and we wish him well. And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Professor Dumbledore. Ursula noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

He gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune!” said Professor Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

Over at the Gryffindor table the Weasley twins could be heard bellowing, but Ursula chose a kinder tune:

_ Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _

_ Teach us something please! _

_ Whether we be old and bald, _

_ Or young with scabby knees! _

_ Our heads could do with filling _

_ With some interesting stuff! _

_ For now they’re bare and full of air, _

_ Dead flies and bits of fluff! _

_ So teach us things worth knowing, _

_ Bring back what we’ve forgot! _

_ Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, _

_ And learn until our brains all rot! _

Everybody finished the song at different times. Professor Dumbledore conducted the last few lines, and when they had all finished he clapped.

“Ah, music!” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! Now, it’s time for bed! Goodnight all!”

“First years! First years this way!” called a prefect in an imperious voice. Ursula recognized her as Josephine Burke. Together she and a Yaxley boy led the first years out of the Great Hall and through a door on the right side of the Entrance Hall.

They descended a set of stone steps that led down, down, down into the depths of the castle. They must have been deep underground among the dungeons by the time the prefects finally marched them along a bare stretch of stone wall.

“Ambition,” said Yaxley to the wall. The stones shifted, revealing a passage not unlike the archway into Diagon Alley. They hurried through the short passageway, coming out at last in the Slytherin common room.

It was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hung on chains. In fact, the whole room had a greenish tinge, due to the common room extending part way under the lake. A fire crackled under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs. There were lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas, skulls, and dark wood cupboards. Yaxley explained that the tapestries decorating the walls featured medieval Slytherins on their famous adventures. The whole common room was quite grand in the cold, elite way Ursula was used to.

“Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures,” lectured Josephine, drawing their attention back to her. “Our house colors are emerald green and silver and the password for our common room changes every fortnight. You will find the new password posted on the notice board and it would do you well to remember it.”

“As you’ll see,” continued Yaxley, “the windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by — and sometimes more interesting creatures. We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck.”

“You’ll find the dorms through this passageway,” said Josephine, leading them through a stone archway. “It connects to the other entrance in a wide semicircle. Each individual archway along the tunnel leads to the girls or boys dorm for that year. First year dorms are at either end and seventh years are in the middle. Through those archways you will find your assigned dorms, with two people in each.” They waited for her to see more, but she was finished. “Well? What are you waiting for? Off you go!”

The first year boys continued down the passageway while the girls all crowded through one archway that had  _ Girls: First Year _ carved above it. They found three black doors, each with a silver nameplate. Ursula’s name was on the very first one, along with Gemma Farley.

The dorm was just like the common room: long and low, styled in grey and silver, black and green. There was a door leading to a bathroom at one end and two identical beds, each with a canopy of green velvet. They were accompanied by little bedside tables between them and large wardrobes against the wall on the outer side. Opposite from the beds were matching desks, and between them a large, oval mirror was hung. The whole room was lit by more lanterns — within the curtains of the beds each person had a personal one mounted on the wall to use as a reading light — but the room was saved from having the same eerie feel as the common room by two things: the chandelier and the window.

The chandelier was an ornate silver thing that hung from the ceiling and cast a glittering white light over everything. Like the lanterns, it lit up the moment they walked in. The window, situated between the beds, showed only dark, murky water, no doubt concealing many creatures, but its saving grave was that there was a curtain covering it if they so wished. Ursula imagined it would be a great fright if one of those creatures were to suddenly hit the window.

Their trunks had already been brought up, as had Betelgeuse’s basket; he had already made himself quite comfortable on Ursula’s bed. Too tired to talk much, Ursula and Gemma simply pulled on their pajamas and got into bed. Gemma read for some time — Ursula could see the flickering light of her lantern as she had not yet closed her heavy curtains — while Ursula took the time to carefully and slowly brush out her hair.

She braided her hair into two long plaits before stowing her hairbrush back in her trunk. Yawning now, as it was late and she was tired after a long day, she snuggled under the warm covers and turned off her own lantern. The lights in the room, including the chandelier, had faded to near darkness, and the heavy curtains blocked out most of the light. Satisfied with where she was, and with Betelgeuse asleep beside her, Ursula fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	12. The First Week

After two days of exploring the castle, Ursula was ready for lessons to start bright and early Monday morning. Or at least, the clock in her dorm said it was early. The Slytherin common room was many things, but it was certainly not bright.

Ursula adjusted her tie and crammed the last of her textbooks into her bag, as she didn’t know which classes she would have today. Over the last two days, she and Lilian had become fast friends, and together they trekked up from the dungeons to the Great Hall for breakfast.

She had gotten a congratulatory letter from her aunt and uncle the day before for making it into Slytherin, and today a tawny owl nearly dropped the Daily Prophet into her cereal. At the end of breakfast Professor Snape came around to pass out their schedules.

_ Ursula Black, first year Slytherin _

_ Monday: _

8:10-9:20 — History of Magic w. Ravenclaw

9:30-12:00 — Double Charms w. Hufflepuff

1:10-2:20 — Defense Against the Dark Arts w. Gryffindor

2:30-3:40 — Herbology w. Ravenclaw

3:50-5:00 — Free

_ Tuesday: _

8:10-10:40 — Double Potions w. Gryffindor

10:50-12:00 — Free

1:10-2:20 — Study Hall

2:30-5:00 — Double Transfiguration w. Hufflepuff

_ Wednesday: _

8:10-10:40 — Double Flying

10:50-12:00 — Study Hall

1:10-2:20 — History of Magic w. Ravenclaw

2:30-3:40 — Free

3:50-5:00 — Astronomy

12:00-1:00 — Astronomy

_ Thursday: _

8:10-10:40 — Double Defense Against the Dark Arts w. Gryffindor

10:50-12:00 — Free

1:10-2:20 — Herbology w. Ravenclaw

2:30-3:40 — History of Magic w. Ravenclaw

3:50-5:00 — Charms w. Hufflepuff

_ Friday: _

8:10-9:20 — Transfiguration w. Hufflepuff

9:30-10:40 — Astronomy

10:50-12:00 — Potions w. Gryffindor

1:10-2:20 — Free

2:30-3:40 — Study Hall

3:50-5:00 — Herbology w. Ravenclaw

“Looks like today we have… History of Magic with the Ravenclaws… double Charms with the Hufflepuffs… Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch with the Gryffindors… Herbology with the Ravenclaws… and a free period before dinner!” finished Lilian, scanning her schedule.

“We should get going,” said Vanessa. “It’ll take us forever to find History of Magic, even if we did explore yesterday.”

The three girls decided it would take far too long to return their unnecessary books back to their dorms, so they headed off to find History of Magic. Hogwarts was very large, and the addition of the moving staircases made it difficult to navigate. There were one hundred forty-two staircases, some that were wide and sweeping, others narrow and rickety. Some led somewhere different on a Friday and others had a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump.

It wasn’t just the staircases that made it hard to find your way, however. There were doors that wouldn’t open unless asked politely, or tickled in just the right place, and even doors that were only solid walls. The people in the portraits kept leaving to visit one another, and the suits of armor could definitely walk. It was always unpleasant to walk through a ghost, but Peeves the Poltergeist got special pleasure from terrorizing students, particularly first years.

There were hardly any other students there when Ursula, Lilian, and Vanessa finally arrived in History of Magic, just a pair of Ravenclaw boys in the front row. The desks were arranged in five rows of five, and the three girls chose seats in the third row on the right side. The desks around them began to slowly fill up, first with some Slytherin boys in front of them and then a whole row of Ravenclaw girls behind them. Gemma arrived with a Ravenclaw named Patricia Stimpson and they sat in the front row. By the time the bell rang, nearly every seat was filled.

Professor Binns glided in through the blackboard, startling the students. He was the only ghost teacher at Hogwarts. With barely a greeting to the students, he launched into a lecture, and his droning voice became soporific. Ursula found herself hard pressed to stay awake as he droned on about Uric the Oddball and Emeric the Evil, but by the end of the lesson she had a decent list of notes.

Lilian had actually fallen asleep after about half an hour of hearing Professor Binns talk, and Ursula woke her with a giggle when the bell rang, promising to share her notes. Gemma joined them, and together they all headed to Charms, which was taught by a tiny little wizard named Professor Flitwick who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk.

Ursula picked the second seat in the front row, with Vanessa on her left and Lilian and Gemma behind them. The seat on her right was occupied by Blossom, the little blonde girl from Diagon Alley, who greeted Ursula happily. Professor Flitwick began their first class by calling role, often excitedly recalling family members of students, before instructing them on the theory behind the Levitation Charm.

Two and a half hours and a surprisingly interesting lesson later, and it was time for lunch. The Slytherins discussed their first two classes with much excitement, largely directed at their Charms class, as well as looking forward to their other classes.

“I can’t wait for Flying on Wednesday,” said Adrian. Ursula quite agreed. It was her secret goal to one day make the house team.

“I’m excited for Transfiguration and Potions tomorrow,” she said.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and they headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. There was a lot of animosity and rivalry between the two houses, particularly after the war. There were still many students in Slytherin especially who still held traditional pureblood views. Ursula herself would likely be one of them if not for the time she spent being taught by Ted and Andromeda.

About half of the seats were filled when they arrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ursula sat down in the second row next to Weasley twins.

“Fred, right?” she said to the one next to her.

“How’d you know?” he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

“Obviously because I’m the more good-looking brother,” said George, leaning over onto his brother’s desk. Fred whacked him jokingly.

“We’re identical, idiot,” he said. George laughed. “Who’s your friend, Black?”

“This is Vanessa,” said Ursula, leaning out of the way so Vanessa could say hi, but she didn’t say anything. She gave the Weasley twins a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Soon enough the last of the seats were filled and the bell rang.

“What was that about?” asked Ursula under her breath.

Vanessa looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Really? They’re blood traitors! We’re above socializing with the likes of them. Why were you even talking to them?”

“Because—” Ursula suddenly remembered that Vanessa didn’t know about Nymphadora or Charlie “— because they’re nice! It was the polite thing to do!”

“Whatever,” sniffed Vanessa as Professor Colobiri strode in with a big smile on his face. Today he wore plum colored robes.

“Good afternoon class!” said Professor Colobiri in a cheery voice. “This year we will be learning about all sorts of magical creatures and several helpful spells! How does that sound?”

The first years didn’t appreciate being talked to like they were young children, so there was only a faint murmur in response. As it turned out, Professor Colobiri was a bit of a joke. His lesson about Imps was put into such simple terms that it bored some of the students. By the end of the lesson, Ursula and Vanessa had gotten over their earlier dispute, though Ursula still vowed to get Vanessa to warm up to the Weasley twins.

Their last class of the day was Herbology, taught by a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout in the greenhouses behind the castle. When they arrived in Greenhouse One, many of the seats at the two long tables were already occupied. Ursula and Lilian sat down across from a pair of Ravenclaw girls, while Vanessa sat at the other table across from Daria.

“Good afternoon everyone!” said Professor Sprout when the bell rang. “While I take role, please take a moment to acquaint yourselves with those sitting opposite you if you have not already done so, as they will be your partner this year.”

“Hi,” said Ursula to the girl sitting across from her. She had dark brown hair and soft green eyes and wore horn rimmed glasses. “I’m Ursula.”

“Hello,” said the girl, giving her a wide but nervous smile. “I’m Ivy.”

Professor Sprout informed them that they would be learning how to take care of all sorts of strange plants and fungi as well as what they were used for. One fascinating and slightly dirty lesson later, and the Slytherin girls strolled back into the castle, satisfied with their first day. They had a free period before lessons were officially over for the day, and then an hour before dinner after that.

They returned to the Slytherin common room and, after putting their bookbags away in their dorms, lounged on the comfortable couches. There were only a handful of older students there as half of the first years gathered to discuss their day.

“I really liked Herbology,” confessed Cassius. Adrian and Lilian voiced their agreement while the others just nodded.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts was a little disappointing,” said Adrian. “But maybe it’ll get better.”

“Charms was fun,” said Ursula. “Professor Flitwick —”

“— Flitwick was awesome!” said Cassius, surprising the others a little with his enthusiasm.

After the rest of the school had finished lessons and dinner had finally been eaten, Ursula lay awake for some time. She was looking forward to the rest of her classes and felt that she had already made some very good friends. She smiled to herself, and went to sleep.

The next morning they had Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Ursula was really looking forward to it, even though she felt pressured to do well as both of her parents had been good at Potions.

Professor Snape was intimidating, and he stared around at them all with cold, black eyes. When he spoke, it was in barely more than a whisper but they caught every word. He had the gift of keeping the class almost entirely silent without effort. The exceptions were, of course, the Weasley twins and to an extent their friend Lee Jordan.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” he began. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

“What’s wrong with being a dunderhead?” said Fred loudly. He and George were seated in the front row, next to Ursula and Lilian.

“Yeah, there are several dunderheads in this room,” added George.

“You, for instance,” finished Fred.

“Detention, Weasleys,” said Professor Snape crisply, “and twenty points from Gryffindor.”

Professor Snape put them into pairs with the person sitting next to them and set them to work making a simple cure for boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He criticized nearly everyone, even his own house, but at the same time managed to praise the Slytherins who did well at every opportunity, as if he was just trying to annoy the Gryffindors. And it worked, as Ursula could see several Gryffindors glaring as she and Lilian were praised for the third time, earning fifteen points for Slytherin.

Despite his blatant favoritism, Ursula quite enjoyed Potions and she was rather good at it. After a free period and a study hall in the Great Hall after lunch, it was time for the other class she had really been looking forward to: Transfiguration.

Like Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall had the ability to command a room, and not a single Hufflepuff or Slytherin spoke while she did.

“Transfiguration is among the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not be allowed to return. You have been warned.”

Then she changed her desk into a sheep and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but they soon realized that they weren’t going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes and being set a large pile of homework, Professor McGonagall gave them each a match to start trying to turn it into a needle.

After several unsuccessful attempts, Ursula managed to make her match go all silver and pointy and she realized that she was the first to do so.

“Well done, Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, giving her a rare smile. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

By the end of the lesson, the boy sitting next to Ursula — Cedric Diggory — was the only other person who had managed to change his match into a needle.

“That was hard,” complained Lilian as they trudged down the stairs to their common room to drop their books off before dinner.

“It was fun,” countered Ursula.

Wednesday morning dawned sunny and bright — or so they saw when they arrived at breakfast, after which all of the first years headed out to the front lawn for their very first flying lesson. Nearly fifty broomsticks were arranged in neat lines on the ground.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

“Don’t just stand there and let the grass grow!” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

The broomsticks were old, with some of the twigs sticking out at odd angles. A few were slightly bent or had splinters sticking out.

“Stick your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch from the front, “and say ‘UP!’”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Adrian’s broom was the first to jump into his hand and Ursula’s followed a moment later. After a second try, Cassius’s jumped into his hand, but the rest of the Slytherins were struggling. Gemma’s broomstick wouldn’t move at all, and Lilian’s merely rolled around on the ground. Around them, several Gryffindors had managed it. The Weasley twins were the first, followed by a dark skinned girl named Angelina Johnson. Cedric was the only Hufflepuff at first, but soon others followed, and in Ravenclaw Roger Davies and Luca Bailey were the only ones comfortably holding their brooms.

Once everyone had at last gotten their brooms into the air — some with great difficulty — Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

“When I blow my whistle, kick off hard from the ground,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment just a few feet off the ground, then lean forward and touch back down. On my whistle. Three — two — one!”

They all kicked off from the ground. Many students — such as Lilian — came back down at once without having hovered at all. Ursula was pleased to find she could still fly after a couple weeks out of practice, and managed to hover quite steadily above the ground. Eventually she leaned forward and came back down, just as Madam Hooch had instructed.

Not everyone was following her instructions, however. The Weasley twins had ignored her order to rise only a few feet off the ground, and were instead around twenty feet in the air.

“Come back down at once!” she barked. “Weasleys!”

The rest of the students could hear them shouting with glee, but it was with expert hands that Fred and George dove back suddenly towards the ground — scattering the other students — and landed safely a few feet away.

“That was very dangerous, boys,” warned Madam Hooch. “You should consider yourselves lucky.”

After Flying they had a study hall, but learning to ride a broom was all anyone could talk about.

“I thought I was going to be sick when I finally made it into the air,” said Lilian.

“Not me,” said Adrian. “It was fantastic! I’m going to try out for the team in a year or two.”

“I’d be happy to keep my feet firmly on the ground from now on,” said Vanessa.

After lunch they had History of Magic, which proved just as boring as it had the first time, and then after a free period they had a daytime Astronomy lesson. Professor Sinistra instructed them on the movements of the planets in a large classroom that had constellations dancing across the ceiling.

That night, all of the Slytherins made the painfully long, arduous climb from their dormitory in the dungeons to the top of the Astronomy tower, which was the tallest tower at Hogwarts. They were more exhausted after their climb than they had been before. In Astronomy they learned the names of the planets and the movements of the stars, tracking them across the night sky with their telescopes. Ursula was delighted when she was the first to spot the Big Dipper, part of the constellation Ursa Major, which she had been named for.

An hour later, and the Slytherins all lugged their telescopes back down, down, downstairs to the dungeons, and were only too happy to fall into bed. The next morning came far too soon for their liking.

Thursday saw a disappointing Double Defense Against the Dark Arts class, followed after lunch by a much more interesting Herbology lesson. Then they had their third and final History of Magic lesson of the week and took another round of notes in Charms.

Fridays were Ursula’s favorite day of the week because she had Transfiguration, Astronomy, and Potions all before lunch. They were her three favorite classes. She had spent a lot of time working hard on her Transfiguration homework and was very proud of what she turned in. In Astronomy she already knew the names of the constellations and loved learning about the stars. In Potions they took notes about what different ingredients did and while Snape continued to needlessly criticize Gryffindor she still enjoyed the class.

In the afternoon she had a free period and a study hall before one last Herbology lesson. The first years finished their first week at Hogwarts with a small pile of homework and for the most part an immense sense of enjoyment in the different classes they had. Even the boring ones Ursula still found fascinating because she was at  _ Hogwarts  _ learning about  _ magic  _ and that was enough for her.

Gemma stayed up to work on an essay for Professor Snape, but Ursula decided her homework could wait until the weekend and instead curled up in bed. She began to flick through one of her books on dragons with Betelgeuse curled up next to her.

Betelgeuse had settled into Hogwarts quite nicely. She wasn’t exactly sure what he did all day, but she swore she had seen him out and about on the grounds of Hogwarts, hunting beetles or playing with the other cats. He was always back inside by nightfall, and would often be waiting outside the door of her dorm to be let in.

“Are you happy here, Beej?” she whispered. He purred loudly in answer, and she scratched behind his ears. “So am I, Beej, so am I.”


	13. Halloween

As the weeks flew by, Ursula settled into a comfortable routine at Hogwarts. The clock in her dorm was set to wake them up in the morning, and as soon as one of them got up the lights came on. She would shove the four or so textbooks that she needed for the day into her bag, along with any homework that was due and a quill and ink bottle from where she left them on her desk after finishing an essay the night before. If Gemma was ready they would head up to breakfast together. If not, Ursula would head up alone or with one of the other first years.

She and Gemma had become more frenemies as the weeks passed. Perhaps academic rivals was a better way to describe their relationship. They still got along fine when not discussing schoolwork, but were insanely competitive when it came to tests and in-class demonstrations. Both made excellent partners to study with, however.

Ursula and Vanessa, on the other hand, were as close as ever. Vanessa excelled in Charms but struggled in Potions, so that was where Ursula helped her. Vanessa adhered more to the beliefs they had both been raised with and had so far not warmed up to the Weasley twins at all, but she never outright insulted anyone. She remained one of Ursula’s best friends.

Ursula’s other best friend was Lilian. She was confident, outgoing, and outspoken, and not afraid to call out people like Jacob Selwyn who believed their blood status elevated them above others. She worked hard on the classes she enjoyed and was generally very motivated to do so. That said, she couldn’t stay awake in History of Magic to save her life. Every class, without fail, she managed to fall asleep, even if it was for a light doze. If she was particularly sound asleep, Ursula and the boys in front of them, Adrian and Cassius, would try and stack things on her until they either fell off or she woke up. Lilian always tried to copy Ursula’s notes, but ended up just summarizing them and doing her best to pass tests.

Speaking of Adrian and Cassius, Ursula got on great with them. Having had similar upbringings (Lilian was the only person she told about Nymphadora) they understood what growing up in a strict household with traditional pureblood views was like, and had the unfortunate shared experience of sharing a governess with Jacob. They were both funny and quick witted and complemented each other well. Adrian was the more studious of the two, while Cassius was the more outgoing. That said, Adrian was terrible at Charms. He could do the spells alright, but the theory behind them always escaped him, meaning he did poorly on assignments even if he did well in class. Cassius, on the other hand, was fairly consistent in all of his classes, with grades that weren’t anything spectacular but not terrible either. He didn’t care about his grades as much as Ursula and Adrian did, and could often be found playing Exploding Snap with Alexander Yorke or Edward Barnes instead of doing his homework.

Outside of Slytherin, she had managed to make a few friends. She was closest to Blossom Ash, who she sat next to in Charms and who could always be counted on to be friendly. The best word Ursula could use to describe her was bubbly. Blossom was always hard working and ready to help others if they needed it, but she had a hard time asking for help herself. Ursula offered to help her study in Transfiguration should she ever need it, as that was the class she worked hardest in and only because it was the one she struggled with the most. Just being around Blossom was nice because her smile could light up a room. People were naturally drawn to her and her helpful and friendly nature made Ursula worry someone would take advantage of her kindness.

Another friend she had made outside of Slytherin was Ivy Lewis, her Herbology partner and the girl who sat behind her in History of Magic. Ivy was creative, intelligent, and passionate, and had no qualms about standing up for what she believed in. She never let anyone get away with prejudiced comments, which had created some friction with some of her fellow students. Aside from when she was standing up for herself or others, Ivy was generally quiet and reserved. She worked hard on projects she cared about but often neglected those she didn’t, and always asked questions in class.

Just as Ursula had gotten to know Ivy from Herbology, she made friends with Cedric Diggory, her Transfiguration partner, and Dennis Moon, who sat next to her in Herbology. Cedric was kind, compassionate, and smart and had all the qualities of a good leader. He was a Hufflepuff to his core. He was always modest about his accomplishments, particularly in Transfiguration, and had no trouble lifting up others. Unlike Cedric’s gentlemanly behavior and overall likable personality, Dennis was a bit of an odd character and Ursula wasn’t sure whether she even liked him at first. He had a tendency to say odd things at odd times, even if those things were often funny. He joked that Astronomy was his favorite class, owing to his last name being Moon. He wasn’t as traditionally smart as some of the other Ravenclaws, but was in no way stupid. He had no desire to try in classes he did not enjoy and referred to it as ‘selectively motivated’. He had won Ursula over, however, and she considered him a friend.

Ursula had little choice in being friends with the Weasley twins, and by extension their friend Lee and, to a lesser extent, Rumina Hayes, as Charlie and Nymphadora were so close. Ursula had been on the receiving end of their pranks, including two water balloons and an unfortunate pumpkin incident, but generally they were on good terms and none of their pranks were particularly harmful. Fred and George were fun to be around and they made classes more lively. Vanessa may not have warmed up to them at all, but Lilian thought they were fun. They had earned themselves quite a reputation for pranks, and had sat more than a few detentions as a result.

The morning of Halloween turned out to be stormy and grey, and the smell of baking pumpkin wafted through the corridors as the Slytherins emerged from the dungeon. Ursula hadn’t celebrated Halloween much as a child — no one came trick or treating at Malfoy Manor — but Andromeda had taken her around once and it had been a lot of fun. There would be a Halloween feast that night, but the Great Hall was already decorated marvelously. Jack-o-lanterns floated overhead and through the corridors and students had fun scaring one another.

Ursula noticed Fred and George came in with more mischievous grins on their faces than usual, and sighed, figuring they had set up some sort of Halloween prank. She had no interest in wasting her time trying to find out what it was when she could enjoy the delicious breakfast laid out on the table.

“BOO!”

Ursula upended a bowl of candy when Adrian and Cassius both shouted into her ears. They dissolved into peals of laughter as she calmed down and scooped the candy back into the bowl. She swatted them both playfully as they sat down next to her.

“You’re both horrible,” she said, though she was smiling.

All was calm for a while as they all dug into breakfast, but then someone shrieked. Several shouts followed and the Great Hall erupted into chaos. The source?

Ursula looked across the table at Lilian, whose hair was now bright red. With growing horror, she looked around the hall, seeing a sea of redheads, until finally she looked at a lock of her own hair, which was as red as red could be.

The culprits were easy to place, as Fred and George proudly took credit when a furious Professor McGonagall — with a deep red bun — confronted them.

“There just weren’t enough redheads, Professor,” said Fred cheekily.

“We thought—” started George, but Professor McGonagall cut him off.

“Regardless of what you  _ thought _ , Mr. and Mr. Weasley, your actions—”

“—Were just what we needed for some Halloween spirit!” finished Professor Dumbledore, rising from his seat and sporting a flaming red beard.

Many people were quite put out about their new hair color, but Ursula thought it could have been a lot worse and the Weasley twins promised it would be gone by the end of the day.

“It better,” muttered Vanessa, scowling deeply.

Like Vanessa, many people were less than pleased, but no one hated the red hair more than Professor Snape, who looked as if he were ready to murder Fred and George when they arrived in Double Potions.

“Today you will be making a Forgetfulness Potion,” said Professor Snape, stalking around the room. The red hair did not suit him and, if anything, gave the rather unfortunate impression that he was wearing a pumpkin on his head. “The instructions can be found on the board and in your books. Begin.”

Though furious that he could not punish Fred and George for changing his hair, he still managed to take off nearly forty points by the end of the lesson. He was in a terrible temper, as nearly all of the students spent the period giggling at him behind their hands.

“Stir clockwise three times,” said Lilian, reading from the book. When Ursula had done so, she waved her wand over the cauldron.

“Now we wait and let it brew,” said Ursula. Nearly an hour later, they returned to their potion and crushed four mistletoe berries in a mortar before adding two pinches of it to their cauldron.

“Stir counterclockwise five times,” said Ursula. Once Lilian had done so, Ursula read the incantation from the book and waved her wand over the cauldron.

“Well done, Ms. Black, Ms. Fenharrow,” said Professor Snape when they presented him with a flask of the orange liquid. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

After a free period, during which the first years could hardly bring themselves to sit in the common room given how much their hair clashed with the decorations, they had a study hall after lunch and Ursula decided it was time to get some answers.

“How did you do it?” she asked the Weasley twins, whispering so the professor in charge wouldn’t hear.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” said Fred, tapping his nose.

“I meant the incantation,” said Ursula.

“A simple color change charm,” said George, “that we added ‘mutatio capillum’ to so it would affect everyone’s hair.”

“I suppose you can’t tell me how you managed to cast it on all the food—” they both shook their heads, grinning mischievously “— so I want to know what you cast the spell on.”

“It was in the drinks,” said George.

“We figured everyone would eat something different,” said Fred.

“So in order for everyone to be affected—”

“—it had to be something everyone would have.”

“Drinks!” they finished together.

After the study hall, the Slytherins had Double Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, and though Professor McGonagall still had a somewhat sour expression on her face she looked nowhere near as ridiculous as Professor Snape with red hair. They went over the Transfiguration Alphabet, and when the bell rang the students were quick to return their stuff to their dorms so they could enjoy the Halloween feast.

The Great Hall had a thousand live bats fluttering from the walls and the ceiling while a thousand more swooped low over the tables in great black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared on the gold plates just as it had at the start-of-term banquet, and it was with some apprehension that the students ate. They were all greatly relieved to find that the food had not been tampered with, and by dessert many were done being redheads.

Indeed, by the time Ursula slipped into bed that night with Betelgeuse asleep at her side, every last strand of red hair was gone from her head.

“Happy Halloween,” she called softly to Gemma, who echoed the sentiment in a sleepy voice.

Ursula decided this had been the most exciting Halloween she’d ever had.


	14. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

On November eleventh, just over a week after Halloween, it was finally time for the first Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

There was excitement in the air as the students headed outside, having donned warm scarves and hats to fight the chilly November air. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students were largely neutral, and many stood with their friends in Gryffindor and Slytherin, both of whom were eager for victory. By eleven o’clock the entire school had piled into the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in hand.

“I want a clean, fair game from all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. Charlie was the Gryffindor captain, and the Slytherin captain was a huge sixth year named Magnus Bole who played chaser. “Please mount your brooms.”

Madam Hooch blew hard on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up high, high in the air, and they were off. The crowd cheered as the Quaffle was seized by a Slytherin chaser.

“Right away the Quaffle is taken by Ismelda Yaxley of Slytherin, an outstanding and rather good looking chaser —”

“TONKS!”

Ursula giggled as her cousin was reprimanded. Ismelda dodged a bludger and threw the Quaffle, making it past Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor keeper.

“And she scores! Ten points to Slytherin. The Gryffindors have the Quaffle now. It’s Hattie Macdonald racing off down the pitch — neat pass to Florence Macdonald — Lily Adams has it now, she’s looking to score — and Edwin Yaxley saves! Marcus Flint takes the Quaffle — he drops it! Bludger to the head by Logan Kirby of Gryffindor! Ismelda Yaxley catches it — toss to Magnus Bole — he shoots — he scores! Twenty-nil to Slytherin!”

Slytherin cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Gryffindors.

Over the course of the next hour and a half, Slytherin managed to score a total of eighteen times. Magnus Bole had made eight of the shots, Ismelda Yaxley seven, and Marcus Flint just three. Gryffindor, on the other hand, had only made three shots out of dozens of attempts, one shot from each of their three chasers. Oliver Wood had been knocked out half an hour back, which seriously hurt the Gryffindors. There had been little sign of the Snitch, but Slytherin’s seeker was weak, and if Gryffindor caught the Snitch now or made just one more goal they’d tie.

“Marcus Flint scores!” shouted Nymphadora. “One ninety-thirty to Slytherin! He might want to watch where he’s going, though, because — ooh! Two bludgers at once! One to the face, one to the stomach! Marcus Flint has fallen off his broom and I think that’s it for him for this game! Florence Macdonald has the Quaffle — she passes to Florence Macdonald — intercepted by Magnus Bole! Ismelda Yaxley and Magnus Bole seem fine without Marcus Flint, as Ismelda Yaxley scores! Two hundred-thirty to Slytherin!”

The Gryffindors had accepted defeat and now just wanted it to be over, but it wouldn’t end unless someone found the Snitch. Ursula thought the whole game was the most exciting thing she had ever seen, and she longed to play.

“The Macdonald twins have the Quaffle now! And they are looking quite marvelous! The real star here is Lily Adams — sorry Charlie Weasley but she’s got you beat!”

“TONKS! Focus on the match!” reprimanded Professor McGonagall.

“Right, sorry Professor. Hattie Macdonald shoots — blocked by Edwin Yaxley! Bludger to the shoulder by Lucas Hawkins — he’s hit the middle hoop — that’s gotta hurt! His injury might give Gryffindor an edge! Oh but Ismelda Yaxley has the Quaffle — she dodges a bludger — pass to Magnus Bole — he dodges a bludger — ducks Lily Adams — and scores! Two hundred and ten to thirty! But what’s this? It seems Charlie Weasley of Gryffindor has spotted the golden snitch!”

Indeed he had. Charlie was hurtling upward on his broom, weaving between players as he followed the tiny winged ball. The snitch changed course, zooming across the pitch, and Charlie followed. A bludger came swerving towards him out of nowhere, but Logan Kirby hit it towards Reginald Fawley, the Slytherin seeker. He had no hope of chasing Charlie and was so distracted that he didn’t notice the bludger until it slammed into his arm with a nasty crunch.

Charlie was closing in fast on the snitch, and Nymphadora could barely contain her excitement.

“He’s almost there! He’s almost got it! Just a little farther — he dives — almost there — he reaches — and Charlie Weasley catches the snitch! The game is over! Slytherin wins two hundred and ten to one hundred and eighty! What an amazing match! Charlie Weasley caught the snitch and Magnus Bole and Ismelda Yaxley scored seventeen times between them!”

The Slytherin side of the stands exploded into cheers as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and all of the players spiralled back to earth.

“It’s just Quidditch,” said Lilian as Ursula joined Adrian and Cassius jumping up and down in happiness.

“It isn’t ‘just Quidditch!’” exclaimed Adrian. “It’s a battle between the houses!”

“More importantly, we won!” shouted Ursula, pulling Lilian to her feet. Lilian laughed and celebrated.

The Slytherins’ jubilation at their victory carried them through the next week, to the annoyance of many of the Gryffindors. In the last week of November Hufflepuff beat Ravenclaw one hundred sixty to forty, and soon Christmas was fast approaching.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself in several feet of snow. The magical fires in the Slytherin common room and dorms worked harder than ever, as the dungeons were colder than ever. The lake froze solid and Ursula had a wonderful idea.

“Let’s go ice-skating,” she suggested Friday afternoon to Blossom and Lilian.

“Let’s what?” asked Lilian.

“It’s a muggle thing,” explained Blossom. “You wear shoes with blades on the bottom called skates and you move across the ice easier.”

“Sounds weird,” said Lilian. “Anyway, I haven’t got any skates.”

“I brought a pair,” said Ursula. “Nymphadora said it was great fun, skating across the lake, so my aunt bought me a pair. We’re about the same size, I think, so if we get an older student to duplicate the skates for us we can share. What about you, Blossom? They might be a bit big on you, but I could get two pairs made?”

“I think it sounds great!” exclaimed Blossom. “I’ve only been a couple of times but it was always really fun!”

“Who will duplicate the skates for you?” asked Lilian.

“I have a few ideas,” replied Ursula.

That evening, before dinner, Ursula rummaged around in her trunk until she found her skates. She headed back out into the common room to look for someone who could duplicate them.

“Excuse me?” asked Ursula. “Could you duplicate these skates for me? My friends and I want to go ice skating but we need two more pairs.”

“Of course,” said Ismelda Yaxley. Though a little surprised at the request, she pulled out her wand and soon enough Ursula had three pairs of skates. “Ursula Black, right?”

Ursula nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. Ice skating on the Black Lake,” said Ismelda thoughtfully. “I might have to try that.”

Ursula grinned and put the skates back in her dorm before dinner.

“You asked the Head Girl?” asked Blossom the next morning, dumbfounded. They were standing on the edge of the Black Lake switching their shoes for skates. “Just so we could go ice skating?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” said Ursula, bending down to help Lilian tie on her skates. “Does that feel secure?”

Lilian nodded. “I never would have thought of doing something like this,” she said. “I bet there’s loads of other Muggle stuff that would be cool to try.”

“Take Muggle Studies,” suggested Blossom.

“Maybe I will,” said Lilian.

At last they were ready, and the three girls took to the ice. It was sturdy and several inches thick under their feet, so there was little risk of them falling in. Blossom and Ursula supported Lilian unsteadily between them. Soon all three were laughing and gliding across the ice, falling occasionally and slipping and sliding as they tried to get back up.

Blossom was a natural. She was small and light on her feet, and could turn and even make little jumps. Ursula couldn’t jump and she was scared to even try, but she still felt comfortable in the skates. Lilian, on the other hand, was hopeless.

She could barely stand up without support from one of the other two, and when they did help her half the time she ended up knocking them down anyways. Despite her lack of skill, she was having a terrific time.

Around midmorning they attracted a bit of an audience, as the Weasley twins plus Lee and Rue paused their snowball fight to shout out pretend scores. It was all in good fun, and the girls enjoyed it just as much as they did.

“Ten!” shouted George when Lilian fell on her back, having laughed too hard when Ursula face planted into a snowbank.

“Seven!” shouted Lee when Blossom couldn’t help Lilian up.

“Eight!” shouted Rue, as she and Lee used the time the twins were distracted to hit them both with snowballs.

“I’ve got it!” said Lilian. The other two stopped to watch as she wobbled across the ice.

“You can do it!” shouted Ursula encouragingly.

“I’m doing it!” said Lilian. “I’m — doing — almost — oof!”

“TEN!” shouted their audience members in unison as Lilian slid off the ice and ran smack into another student, knocking them both over.

“Ouch,” winced Blossom and Ursula. They skated over to see how much damage was done.

“I’m so sorry!” Lilian was saying. She was sitting in the snow apologizing over and over again to the boy she had ran into. Ursula realized it was Terence Higgs, and that the other second year laughing his ass off was Peregrine Derrick.

“It’s fine, I’m ok, it was an accident,” said Terence. “I wasn’t paying enough attention—”

“No it was my fault,” said Lilian.

“You almost had it,” said Terence encouragingly. Lilian blushed. “Anyway I’m Terence Higgs.”

“Nice to meet you Terence,” said Lilian, “even if it is like this. I’m Lilian Fenharrow.” They shook hands. Peregrine was still roaring with laughter.

“Well, bye,” said Terence, getting awkwardly to his feet. “Lilian, Ursula, er, third girl I don’t know.” He nodded to each of them.

“Blossom,” said Blossom.

Terence grinned awkwardly at them all before leading Peregrine away, and the three girls returned to the ice. After several more tumbles, though none as hilarious and harmful as Lilian knocking Terence over, they headed back up to the castle for lunch, faces red and chapped from the wind, having enjoyed themselves immensely.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. Aside from how much the students enjoyed celebrating Christmas or Hanukkah and how eager most of them were to see their families, the castle itself was freezing in the winter. The drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

“Is the Slytherin common room this cold?” asked Fred one day. The tip of his nose was red.

“No,” replied Ursula, breathing into her hands to keep them warm. “We have lots of fires. The rest of the dungeons are freezing, though.”

On their last day before heading home, the students marveled at the amazing decorations around the castle, particularly in the Great Hall. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles. In short, it looked spectacular.

The students were taken to Hogsmeade station in carriages that seemed to be pulled by nothing, but Ursula’s father had told her all about the thestrals that pulled the carriages. Speaking of her father, he was set to visit shortly after Christmas so he could take her to see his family.

Ursula joined Lilian, Vanessa, and Gemma in a compartment as the train slowly started to move, until soon enough they were whizzing past snow covered fields and wintery forests, snow swirling outside the window, on their way back home.


	15. Christmas

Christmas was Ursula’s favorite time of the year. She loved the decorations and the festivities and of course the presents. She loved the way Malfoy Manor looked covered in snow, the way everything sparkled and looked peaceful. She loved being home, getting to see her aunt and uncle and especially Draco.

In the days leading up to Christmas Ursula spent lots of time in her room, wrapping gifts for her family and owling them to her friends. A new pair of skates and a Muggle camera for Lilian. A pair of skates and a bottle of bubbles that changed color for Blossom. A magical planner and a box of chocolate frogs for Ivy. Each one she gave to Agatha, ensuring her owl was kept busy over the holidays. Three days before Christmas, Andromeda took Ursula and Nymphadora ice skating in town, giving Ursula a chance to pass along her presents for them.

Malfoy Manor looked spectacular, as Dobby and Weesy had done a wonderful job stringing up lights and hanging holly, ivy, and mistletoe around the manor. An enormous tree decorated with twinkling lights and colorful baubles stood proudly in the hall, but it was the tree in the sitting room that was the prettiest. It was covered in lights and tinsel and baubles and ornaments of all different shapes and sizes and it looked terrific. Ursula and Draco had spent nearly two hours decorating this one themselves, and had enjoyed every minute of it.

By Christmas Eve, Ursula had a large stack of gifts in the corner of her room, all for different family members. She carried down her gifts for the Malfoys, her grandfather Cygnus, and her great-great aunt Cassiopeia and set them beneath the tree. At the end of her bed she tied her stocking, velvet red and white with her name written in gold, so it could be filled with toys and sweets.

“Ursula! Draco! It’s time for the party!”

Every year, one of the affluent pureblood families would host a ball on Christmas Eve. This year it was hosted by the Rowle family at their manor in Somerset. Ursula was good friends with Hadrian — she had little choice, their families pushed for them to get to know each other — but she didn’t know their younger son, Caspian as well. He was a year younger than Draco.

Ursula’s dress was gold, her skirt patterned with snowflakes. She had spent several minutes in front of her mirror admiring her dress and twirling around to see the way the skirt flared out. With it she wore her mother’s pearl necklace, which made Narcissa smile sadly when she saw it.

Ursula took Lucius’s arm and he Apparated them all to Rowle Manor, a stately mansion with long hedges dusted with a thin layer of snow. Light spilled from the entryway, and a house elf waited on either side of the grand front doors to collect gifts from the guests. It was customary for the hosts to give gifts to their guests and each family in attendance to bring a gift in exchange for the hosts. Draco stood on his tiptoes to place their box on top of a teetering pile.

Rowle Manor was even more extravagantly decorated than Malfoy Manor, with an enormous Christmas tree greeting guests in the front hall, tall enough to rise above the edges of the second floor balcony. Wreaths were connected by long strings of red baubles and live fairies twinkled among the branches of the tree.

“Candy cane, Ursula?”

“Hadrian!”

Ursula turned around and hugged her friend, who was nearly a head taller than her. Hadrian beamed at her, offering her a candy cane tied with a red bow which she accepted.

“How’s Durmstrang? It must be very cold in the winter,” said Ursula.

“It’s tough, but I’m enjoying it,” replied Hadrian. “I was sorted into Volkovio at the end of last year, so a lot of my classes are physical.”

Unlike at Hogwarts, Durmstrang students were sorted at the end of first year based on their performance in classes, and of the four houses Volkovio had the meanest reputation and was known for turning out students who were cunning and elitist, built for battle, and often more interested in the dark arts than they should be.

“You’re in Slytherin, right?” asked Hadrian. Ursula nodded. “How’s Hogwarts?”

“Our dorms are in the dungeons, which makes the hallways and stone floors freezing, but I’m enjoying my classes,” she replied.

“Ursula!”

It was Vanessa, with Gemma close behind her. Both girls squealed and hugged Ursula. Hadrian bowed and offered them both candy canes.

“Is this your job?” giggled Ursula. “The candy cane man?”

“It is my  _ duty _ ,” corrected Hadrian, which only made her giggle more. He shuffled away, leaving the three girls to their own devices.

“I brought gifts for you both, but you can’t open them until after dinner, when everyone else is exchanging gifts,” said Vanessa.

“This party is remarkable,” said Gemma, “and this is one of the fanciest houses I’ve ever been in.”

“It is gorgeous,” agreed Ursula.

“Won’t it be like, all yours one day?” said Vanessa.

“What do you mean?”

“When you marry Hadrian, of course,” said Vanessa with a laugh, as if it were obvious. Ursula frowned. She, like her aunt, was not a fan of discussing her, quote, ‘prospects.’

Thankfully Ursula was saved from responding by Hadrian’s mother, who announced that dinner was served. The three girls sat down at one of the many little round tables in the elongated dining room. A wizard cracker had been placed on each empty plate and they delighted in popping them. Inside Ursula’s cracker was an entire crystal wizarding chess set. Ursula often played chess with her grandfather Cygnus, so she was excited to receive a set of her own.

Once dinner had ended the hosts began to hand out gifts to their guests, and many of the children at the party took the time to exchange gifts with their friends, Ursula, Vanessa, and Gemma included.

“You’re the best, Ursula,” said Gemma, pulling out the homework planner Ursula had given her, along with an assortment of magical candy.

“It reminds you of tests and assignments,” said Ursula. “Hopefully it’ll help you study. Your turn, Vanessa.”

Vanessa opened her box, pulling out a long, thin wood box first. Inside was a decorated quill set with a handsome feather. The second thing she pulled out was a headband with a ribbon bow.

“Oh it’s lovely,” gushed Vanessa.

“It changes colors to match your outfit,” said Ursula.

“Open mine,” urged Vanessa, thanking her again.

Ursula pulled out an ornate handheld mirror with jewels that looked like a face.

“Very festive,” said the mirror, causing Ursula to jump.

“Yeah, it tells you how you look,” said Vanessa.

“I love it, thank you,” replied Ursula, giving her a hug.

Before she could open Gemma’s gift, Ursula saw Narcissa beckon her imperiously over to where she and Lucius were standing with Hadrian and his parents. Ursula excused herself from her friends.

“Hadrian has a gift for you,” said Narcissa when she joined them.

Hadrian’s mother put a hand on her son’s shoulder. It was clear that whatever ‘gift’ Hadrian had for Ursula had been chosen by his mother, and he was hesitant to hold the wide, flat box out to Ursula.

“Go on dear,” said his mother. “Don’t be shy.”

Ursula untied the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box, her breath catching when she saw what was inside. The necklace was beautiful, a fine silver chain supporting a cluster of blue crystal flowers, ending in a single pearl dangling in the middle.

“Wow,” she said. “Wow.” She looked up at Hadrian, and then to his parents. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The rest of the party was delightful — without any more unexpected gifts — and when it was time for Ursula to finally return home, her pockets crammed full of candy canes, she was positively exhausted. She fell asleep to the sound of the fire crackling softly, and when she woke the stocking at the end of her bed bulged with gifts waiting to be unwrapped.

“Ursula! Ursula wake up! It’s Christmas! Come on!” Draco shook his cousin awake, his voice high pitched in his excitement.

“I’m up! I’m up!” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Draco.”

“Mother and father aren’t up yet,” said Draco, “but Weesy made some hot chocolate and cookies for us!”

Ursula put on a dressing gown and a pair of slippers — all Christmas themed, of course — and grabbed her stocking before allowing Draco to tug her downstairs. Weesy had indeed put a plate of cookies and a pitcher of hot chocolate in the sitting room, and under the glittering tree sat a large pile of presents, wrapped in shiny paper and tied with pretty bows.

The sky outside was still dark, and a fire roared to life when they entered the room. Draco’s stocking was practically spilling over, and he babbled endlessly about how excited he was to open his presents.

The first adult to come downstairs was Ursula’s great-great aunt Cassiopeia, Cygnus’s aunt. Ursula had long gotten over her name association and quite liked her aunt. She was a formidable woman who was not to be crossed, but she doted on Ursula and Draco. Cassiopeia had never had any children of her own, and Ursula and Draco were the only children in the family, not counting estranged or disowned cousins. Cassiopeia swanned down the stairs, watching her niece and nephew laugh.

“Happy Christmas, my dears,” she said, settling herself in an armchair. She called for Weesy to bring her coffee, and soon sipped from a mug. The minutes ticked by, and it was some time before Narcissa and Lucius came down the stairs and at last joined them.

“Took you long enough,” huffed Cassiopeia.

“Happy Christmas,” said Narcissa, ignoring her aunt and bending down to hug her son and niece.

“Can we open presents now?” begged Draco. “ _ Please _ ?”

“You know you must wait until your grandfather is here,” said Lucius. Draco groaned.

“Why don’t you go wake him up?” suggested Cassiopeia with a devilish grin. She loved to bother her nephew.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s —” began Narcissa, but Cassiopeia waved her off.

“Nonsense dear, the boy’s waited long enough,” she said. “Off you go.”

Draco ran upstairs, his feet thumping softly on the wood. They heard a door creak open, and then —

Draco was back, sprinting down the stairs as his grandfather Cygnus shouted and roared about being woken up. Draco was grinning widely as he sat down next to Ursula.

“Grandfather will be down in a minute,” he said.

Also disturbed by the commotion was Betelgeuse, who trotted speedily down the stairs and settled himself next to Ursula on the arm of the sofa. At last Cygnus arrived, his hair rumpled and looking displeased, but he sat down and ordered a coffee from Dobby.

“Alright Draco,” said Narcissa. “Go ahead. You too, Ursula.”

Draco went straight for the long, broomstick shaped package that he had been eyeing for the last half hour while Ursula picked up a tall blue box.

“Wow! A Cleansweep Six! Thanks father!” gushed Draco, his new broom in hand.

Ursula pulled out a vase and a small packet of seeds.

“It’s for your dorm,” explained Narcissa. “The blossoms on the plant change depending on the emotional atmosphere around it.”

“Thank you!” said Ursula.

As she and Draco continued to unwrap their gifts, they also passed various boxes and bags to the adults for them to open.

“A new hat?” said Cassiopeia, pulling out a lovely blue velvet witch’s hat with gold stars. “An excellent choice, Narcissa dear, thank you.”

“Ooh, some lovely new potions flasks!” said Cygnus. “Who’s this from?”

“It’s from me, grandfather,” said Ursula.

“Well thank you very much, my dear,” he replied.

“Lucius, these are gorgeous,” said Narcissa, opening a green box to reveal a set of glittering silver and blue hair clips.”

Ursula lifted a small box from under the tree and instead of opening it, held it in front of Betelgeuse.

“What do you think, Beej?” she asked. Betelgeuse eyed the box, and when he tapped the lid with his paw she opened it. Inside was a new jingly toy and a mouse stuffed with catnip. Betelgeuse went for the jingly toy first, giving it a satisfying bat with his paw, before snatching the mouse out of the box and biting it. He purred loudly to show he liked it.

The festivities continued, even when all the presents had been opened. They had a full Christmas dinner at mid-day, complete with Christmas pudding, and at six that night they had Christmas tea. When that too was finished, Cygnus requested Ursula sit down at the piano and play a tune.

“Give us a song, why don’t you?” he said. “How about O Come, All Ye Faithful?”

Ursula obliged, and soon they were all singing. Cygnus’s voice was the deepest of them all, and Draco’s was still high enough that he sang with his cousin. Narcissa’s voice was the highest of them all. Ursula enjoyed the music, their voices fitting nicely together and the piano resonating around the room.

“Merry Christmas,” said Narcissa as Ursula headed upstairs to bed.

In response, Ursula stopped and gave her a hug.

The next morning, Ursula made sure to rise early again, though not as early as on Christmas. She tiptoed down to the kitchen with two packages in hand.

“Mistress Ursula!” squeaked Weesy when she came in. She and Dobby were busy preparing breakfast. “What are you doing down here, miss?”

“I have presents for you,” she said, holding out the packages to each of them.

“Presents… for Dobby and Weesy?” Dobby’s green eyes grew even larger. He opened his package quickly while Weesy opened hers more hesitantly. Inside both were a small quilt, with their names stitched in white. Dobby’s was red and Weesy’s was blue.

“It’s cold down here in the kitchen,” explained Ursula.

“Thank you very much, mistress Ursula!” said Dobby, practically jumping up and down. “Dobby loves it!”

“Thank you, miss,” said Weesy, clutching her quilt tightly to her chest. “Weesy is most grateful.”

“Merry Christmas,” said Ursula. She made it back upstairs without being seen, smiling the whole way.

Just after breakfast, Ursula gathered up the pile of presents for her dad’s family into a large bag and put Betelgeuse in his basket in preparation for her dad’s arrival. He would be taking her to Newt and Tina’s house. Betelgeuse was coming to visit the other kittens in his litter.

“Merry Christmas!” said Ken as soon as he stepped inside. Ursula ran and hugged him. “Are you ready to go?”

Ursula nodded. Ken took the bag of presents from her while she held Betelgeuse’s basket and Apparated them both to Dorset. It had snowed more here than in Wiltshire, and the snow had been trampled, likely in a snowball fight. There was a chorus of greetings as they stepped through the door and into the heavily decorated cottage.

“Ursula!” shouted her cousin, eight-year-old Leon. He ran over and hugged her excitedly, followed by his sister Beatrice, who was six.

“Ursula!” echoed Felix, who was only three. He had only just learned how to say her name correctly and mostly called her ‘Ursa’ but loved to imitate his brother and sister. Felix addled over to her and she bent down so she could give him a proper hug.

Once she was finished hugging her cousins she everyone else: hugged her aunt and uncle, her grandparents, and her great grandparents. There was another round of exchanging gifts, as Ursula had brought presents for everyone and they all had presents for her. Her little cousins babbled on and on about what they’d been up to while she opened her gifts and begged her to tell them about Hogwarts, which she was happy to do. They bombarded her with questions as she unwrapped her first gift, a photo album and a journal, from Newt and Tina.

“Most of the pages in the album are empty,” said Newt, “so you can fill them with pictures yourself. We put pictures of our first meeting, past Christmases, and whatnot in and the rest is up to you.”

“And the journal can only be unlocked by you,” said Tina.

“Do you play Quidditch?” asked Beatrice as Ursula opened Laurie and Maggie’s gift: a green-and-silver scarf, matching mittens, and a hat with a green pom-pom on top, all of which had been knitted by Maggie. Laurie added the pom-pom.

“I do play,” she answered after thanking her grandparents for such a wonderful gift. “But I’m not on my house team. I hope to try out in a couple of years.”

The next gift was from her Uncle Bat and Aunt Willie — Barnaby and Wilhelmina — and it was half a dozen ink bottles and eight tubes of acrylic paint. Each bottle of ink had a different label on the side, such as ‘Invisible’, ‘Color-Changing’, and ‘Scented.’

“What’s Slytherin like?” asked Leon. “Are there snakes everywhere?”

Ursula laughed.

“There are certainly a lot of snakes,” she said. “Slytherin is wonderful, although the castle gets quite cold in the winter. Our dorms and common room are in a dungeon under the lake, so sometimes we see creatures swim by.”

“Last but not least,” said Ken, setting a large box on her lap. “My gifts.”

Ursula pulled back the flaps of the box and pulled out a stack of books.  _ Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland _ said the first one.  _ Tales of Beedle the Bard _ said the second. And —

“‘Lord of the Rings’?” said Ursula, picking up the three books.

“I went for a mix of Muggle and magical literature,” said Ken. “I think you’ll like it. There’s one more thing in the box.”

Ursula turned back to her gift, thinking that if her dad thought it was good she would probably enjoy it as well. The ‘thing’ turned out to be a smaller box. Ursula opened it up and was surprised when a miniature model of a thunderbird jumped out. It could fly and everything. She thanked her dad and everyone else for such great gifts.

“I do believe lunch is ready,” said Maggie as she heaved herself out of her chair. Ursula was delighted to see more wizard crackers on the table, and was even more pleased when she got a pack of stars that could be stuck onto the walls or the ceiling and would move like real constellations.

While they sat down for lunch, Betelgeuse was busy having his own family reunion. Along with his parents, Mauler and Hoppy, and Millie, there was Dinosaur, who belonged to Leon, Buttercup, who was Beatrice’s, Bonkers, who was technically Bat and Willie’s but Felix had claimed as his own, Annabelle and Macaroni, who belonged to Laurie and Maggie, and Pistachio and Cherry, who had stayed with Newt and Tina. Now full grown, the eight littermates chased one another around, up and down stairs and through doors, accompanied by the occasional thump as they knocked something over.

When lunch had been eaten and the adults were thinking of something to do, Beatrice piped up, “Snowball fight!”

Ursula put on the new hat, new mittens, and new scarf her grandparents had given her and raced outside with her cousins. On her side was Grandma Maggie, her dad, her Uncle Bat, and Beatrice. The other side was Grandpapa Newt, Grandpa Laurie, Aunt Wilhelmina, and Leon. Grandmama Tina and Felix played for only a short while before retiring to the porch to watch.

Quickly they built walls of snow to hide behind and Uncle Bat told Ursula and Beatrice to start making snowballs. Soon the air was thick with them, and Ursula laughed even as she was struck in the face by one. She threw a retaliatory snowball at her grandpa and cheered when it hit him. She didn’t know how long they fought, but she enjoyed every minute of it.

When the adults got tired, Ursula and her cousins built a snowman, and Newt brought out old clothes to put on him. After an obligatory cocoa and cookie break, they were back at it. The children and their dads played some more before at last, noses red and mittens wet, they trudged gleefully back inside to warm up.

Like Grandfather Cygnus, Grandpa Laurie suggested they sing, and soon they all launched into a rendition of God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs. Unlike at Malfoy Manor, the Scamanders’ voices jumbled together, some off-key and some not knowing the words. Ursula found she enjoyed it even more when no one was trying to sing perfectly.

After an exhausting and fun-filled day, Ursula bid her family goodbye. They made it out the door after one last round of hugs and Merry Christmases and Ken Apparated her back to Malfoy Manor.

“Merry Christmas, little one,” he said as he gave her a hug. “Have fun at school. I’ll see you in the summer. I love you.”

“I love you too dad,” she said, yawning. “Merry Christmas!”

The rest of the winter holidays passed swiftly, with Draco his new broomstick and Ursula staying up late to read her new books. New Year passed as well, and soon it was time to go back to school.

After passing through the barrier and onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, she bid her aunt and uncle and cousin goodbye and boarded the train.

“Happy New Year!” said Adrian as he and Cassius joined her and Lilian. “Thanks for the sugar quills.”

“Yeah, thank you for all the chocolate,” said Cassius.

“I’ve taken so many pictures with the camera you got me,” said Lilian. She dug around in her trunk and pulled it out. “Here, let’s take a picture.”

The picture, of her and Lilian between Adrian and Cassius, was among the first Ursula put in her book. The holidays had been wonderful, and the rest of the year would be too.


	16. A Sneaky Graduation

The rest of the year  _ was  _ wonderful, and it practically flew by. Ursula’s birthday was celebrated by her friends, and she excelled in her end of year exams. There was much celebrating in Slytherin as they had won both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. Once exams were over, their last few days were a flurry of packing and much exchanging of addresses, with friends making each other promise to write.

The train ride home was pleasant, with the students excited to see their families again. Cassius was bombarded with hugs from his four younger siblings. Ursula didn’t stare at him for long, however, because Draco came running up to give her a hug. She had missed his birthday, being away at school, but hadn’t forgotten to send him a gift.

The summer passed quickly as well. Ursula spent her days playing Quidditch with Draco, visiting Nymphadora, or playing in the garden. Her dad took her to Dorset, to her grandparents’ house, and to see Uncle Bat and Aunt Willie. He even took her for a brief visit to America. Agatha was busy flying back and forth between Malfoy Manor and her friends’ houses and Ursula even got to visit some of them. Madam Tripe returned twice a week to continue her lessons with Vanessa and Gemma.

Soon Ursula returned to Diagon Alley to purchase supplies for her second year, and right away she was back at school. The first of Cassius’s siblings — Aurelia Warrington — was sorted into Slytherin, along with Peregrine’s sister Guinevere Derrick and Terence’s brother Callum Higgs. She watched the Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin — they needed a new chaser and beater — but did not try out herself.

She may not have tried out, but Fred and George Weasley became the new Gryffindor beaters with their brother Charlie as captain. Angelina Johnson became a chaser and Alicia Spinnet became a reserve chaser. Unfortunately for them but not for Ursula, they were absolutely flattened by Slytherin in the opening match of the year.

Lilian had gotten more into Quidditch, but she was as bad at ice skating as ever. She could stay up on her own, at least, but had more than her fair share of wipeouts. Ursula felt even closer to her friends this year. She went home for Christmas again this year and spent New Year’s Eve with the Scamanders. The rest of second year passed steadily, and soon the only thing they had to do before the year was out was decide which electives they wanted to take next year.

A large flyer pinned to the noticeboard in the Slytherin common room read:

**Second years are reminded that requests for**

**electives are due to their Head of House by**

**Wednesday, June 19th. All students wishing to**

**drop a course must speak to their Head of**

**House by the 19th as well.**

On Monday of their last week, many of the Slytherin second years gathered in the common room to discuss their choices and fill out the necessary forms.

“I’m taking Care of Magical Creatures, of course,” said Ursula. Several of the others nodded in agreement, including Lilian. Vanessa wrinkled her nose.

“Not me,” she said. “Too messy. I’ll take Divination instead.”

“Divination is a bit of a wooly subject, isn’t it?” said Gemma.

“Well  _ I’m  _ still going to take it,” said Adrian. “Wooly or not. What about you, Cassius?”

“I’ve got Divination, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures,” Cassius replied. Adrian’s list was the same.

“Are you taking anything besides Divination, Vanessa?” asked Ursula.

“Arithmancy,” said Vanessa. “What about you?”

“I’m taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures,” she replied. “Gemma?”

“I’m definitely taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy…” said Gemma slowly. Her desire to compete with Ursula triumphed over her hesitancy about Care of Magical Creatures. “…and I’m going to take Care of Magical Creatures as well.”

“I’ve got Care of Magical Creatures and Divination,” said Jacob. “Oh, and Arithmancy. Imagine taking  _ Muggle Studies _ .”

“I’m taking Muggle Studies,” said Lilian coolly.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit…  _ beneath  _ you?” said Jacob, eyebrows raised.

“I find it fascinating, actually,” she snapped. “I don’t recall there being any rule barring Slytherins from taking Muggle Studies.”

“Just a sense of decency,” retorted Jacob.

“Then perhaps you’d have the  _ decency  _ to go away, Selwyn,” said Lilian.

“Muggle Studies sounds great,” said Ursula, defusing the tension by ignoring Jacob altogether and turning towards her friend. “Are you taking anything else, besides that and Care of Magical Creatures?”

“Ancient Runes,” said Lilian, some of the stiffness in her voice disappearing.

The next day, Lilian complained about Jacob as they were on their way to Potions.

“He just gets on my nerves,” she said. “He’s always so smug and pretentious… and the way he treats muggleborns? Ugh, he disgusts me.”

“You’re not the only one,” said Ursula.

They handed their elective requests to Professor Snape and took their seats. Their exams had been last week, so their teachers had little left to say. Professor Snape set them to work making a simple Hair-Raising Potion that they already knew how to make, and instructed them to work quietly.

“You have all  _ amazingly  _ managed to scrape a passing grade,” he said with a sneer. “Try not to forget everything over the summer.”

“I heard you’re going to the graduation ceremony,” whispered Lilian out of the corner of her mouth. “For your cousin, right?”

Ursula nodded.

“And Gemma and Vanessa don’t know?”

“They don’t even know that I visit her over the summer,” muttered Ursula.

“Why not? It seems absurd to me,” said Lilian.

“I told you, Nymphadora’s mother was disowned. I’m not supposed to be in contact with them,” said Ursula. “And if I tell Vanessa and Gemma they won’t be able to keep it a secret.

“The ceremony’s on Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, at nine.”

“Do you want me to cover for you?”

Ursula beamed at her friend. “Could you? That would be amazing. I’ll have everything packed except for Betelgeuse. I’ll see if I can get him to sleep in his basket, but if he doesn’t there’s a catnip toy in his basket. Can you make sure Agatha gets in her cage?”

“She scares me, but I’ll try,” said Lilian.

“You’re the best.”

“I know,” said Lilian, smiling. They both laughed. Professor Snape gave them a disapproving glare and they quieted.

“I’ll buy you all the candy you want on the train ride home,” whispered Ursula.

Saturday morning, and Ursula made sure she had everything packed before heading up for breakfast, knowing she would have no time after the ceremony. She sat down between Adrian and Lilian and poured syrup liberally over her waffle.

“Will anyone else recognize you?” asked Lilian quietly.

“Magnus Bole’s parents know me,” she said, “as do the Fawleys, the Wilkes, and the Bulstrodes. But only Magnus’s parents know me well enough to be sure they saw me, and I have a plan to avoid them.”

“All students must be out of the Great Hall by eight-fifteen,” announced Professor Dumbledore. “The graduation ceremony will begin at nine. Those attending the ceremony may return fifteen minutes prior to its start. All are reminded that the train leaves from Hogsmeade Station at eleven.”

Ursula hurried back down, down, down the many steps to the Slytherin common room and double checked that she had everything packed and ready to go.

“Where are you going?”

Ursula paused at the door. Gemma’s voice was suspicious. “I’m going to the library.”

“Why?”

“To make sure I’ve returned everything,” she lied easily. “And then Blossom and I are going on a walk.”

“Have you finished packing?”

“Everything but Betelgeuse,” said Ursula, and she left before Gemma could question her anymore.

She hurried up the stairs, cursing how far down the Slytherin common room was. She slid into the Great Hall less than five minutes before the ceremony was set to start. Her plan to avoid the Bole family was to sit with the Weasley twins in the student section.

“Hey Black,” said George.

“”There you are,” added Fred.

“We saved you a seat.”

“Just in time.”

She thanked them and sat down in the empty seat next to George.

“I was interrogated by my roommate,” she explained.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium in the front of the dais.

“Please welcome the Class of 1991!”

They cheered as the doors of the Great Hall opened and the graduates walked in, waving to their friends and families. Fred and George whistled and called out to Charlie. The seventh years sat down in the seats reserved for them in the front of the hall.

Professor McGonagall stayed at the podium to give a speech, about the value of education and everything the seventh years had learned. Fred and George clapped exuberantly when she had finally finished. After her speech, she announced the Quidditch captains and players, the academic achievers, and the prefects and the head boy and girl. Ursula whistled and the Weasley twins cheered when Charlie’s name was announced.

After the Head Boy and Head Girl spoke — thankfully their speeches weren’t too long — Professor McGonagall returned to announce the graduates one by one and give them their diplomas.

“Magnus Bole!”

Magnus puffed out his chest and headed up to the stage, shaking hands with the professors lined up behind Professor McGonagall before accepting his diploma.

“A Slytherin, Mr. Bole excelled on and off the pitch. As a chaser for Slytherin for five years and a captain for two, Mr. Bole led his team to victory twice. He goes on to play as a reserve chaser for the Appleby Arrows.”

After nearly two thirds of the seventh years had been called up, Professor McGonagall finally said, “Nymphadora Tonks!”

Ursula clapped and whistled for her cousin, whose hair transitioned from her favorite shade of bubblegum pink to a celebratory neon yellow.

“A Hufflepuff, Ms. Tonks has charmed her fellow students and her teachers with her creativity, humor, and intelligence. She has been the Quidditch announcer for the last four years and goes on to train as an Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

At last, with just a handful of students left to go, Professor McGonagall called, “Charles Weasley!”

Fred and George leapt to their feet as they cheered for their brother, sending colorful sparks into the air with their wands. Ursula saw Percy Weasley frown disapprovingly at them from a few rows in front.

“A Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley has been a charismatic and driven student. He has been the seeker for Gryffindor for six years and the captain for the last three and has two Quidditch Cups under his belt. He has been accepted at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary in their Dragonologist program.”

Once the last of the students had been given their diplomas, Professor Dumbledore replaced Professor McGonagall at the podium to announce the graduating class.

“I have just a few words to say to you all, before you leave Hogwarts and join the adult wizarding world,” began Professor Dumbledore. “Firecracker. Earthquake. Airtight. Watershed. Congratulations graduates and good luck!”

The graduates were engulfed by their friends and family and Ursula stood on her tiptoes to find Nymphadora’s yellow hair in the sea of heads. Fred and George each took one of her hands and before she could protest they dragged her over to a crowd of redheads, comprised of their three older brothers and their parents. Nymphadora was there as well, currently being hugged by Andromeda.

“Congratulations!” said Ursula, giving her cousin a hug. Nymphadora ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Glad you could make it,” she said.

Fred hooked his arm around her elbow and dragged her over to face his parents and siblings. Ursula blushed even as they looked kindly at her.

“Mum, dad,” said Fred.

“This is our friend,” said George.

“And Tonks’ cousin —”

“— Ursula Black!”

Ursula smiled shyly and waved at their parents. Mrs. Weasley was short and kind-looking, and at once she pulled Ursula into a warm hug. Mr. Weasley was tall and thin and balding slightly and he shook Ursula’s hand heartily.

“And this is our brother Bill,” said Fred.

“He works as a curse-breaker for Gringotts,” added George. Bill was tall like his father — well, like his father and all of his brothers — and wore his long red hair in a ponytail. Everything from the way he stood to his clothes made him look cool.

“Sup,” said Bill, nodding to her.

“It’s wonderful to meet you all,” said Ursula.

“Oh, it was lovely meeting you too, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley.

Nymphadora tugged Ursula away by the elbow.

“Now that I’m joining the Auror department I’ve decided to get my own place,” she said.

“That’s great!” replied Ursula.

“You’ll have to help me decorate,” said Nymphadora.

“Of course!”

“And I hope you’ll come visit, since you are my  _ favorite  _ cousin.”

“I’d love to,” said Ursula, and she gave her cousin another hug.

“Let’s take some pictures!” said Ted, pulling out a Muggle camera. “Altogether now! Say cheese!”

They took pictures until lights danced in front of Ursula’s eyes. Finally, over the general din of congratulations, she heard Professor Dumbledore say, “If the graduates would please follow Hagrid!”

It took several minutes for everyone to detach themselves from their families, but when they did they followed Hagrid out of the hall to one last cheer. Once they were gone, Ursula bid her aunt and uncle and the Weasleys goodbye and left the hall with many of the other Hogwarts students, ducking quickly around Professor Sprout to avoid being seen by the Bole family.

She emerged into the Entrance Hall and was immensely relieved to see Lilian hurrying up the stairs from the dungeons.

~~~

Lilian checked the clock.

Ursula had been at the graduation ceremony for the last hour, and Gemma hadn’t left her dorm once. After much coaxing and several treats, Lilian had secured Agatha in her cage, but Betelgeuse wasn’t in his basket yet and time was ticking on. Gemma had already interrogated Ursula about where she was going, and she would surely get suspicious if Lilian packed for her.

_ What to do, what to do, what to do… _

While Vanessa’s back was turned, Lilian snatched the hairbrush off her desk and stuck it out of sight under her own. Then she left the dorm.

It took only a minute for Vanessa to notice.

“Lilian! Have you seen my hairbrush?” she called, coming out of their dorm and into the common room.

“It was on your desk, wasn’t it?” said Lilian.

“It was, but now I can’t find it. Can you help me?”

“Of course,” said Lilian. “I’ll get Gemma to help as well.”

“You’re a doll, Lilian, thank you,” said Vanessa.

Crossing her fingers that this would work, Lilian knocked on the door to Ursula’s dorm.

“Come in,” called Gemma.

Lilian poked her head inside and said, “Vanessa can’t find her hairbrush. Can you help look for it?”

“Sure,” said Gemma. She shut her trunk. “If you see Ursula, tell her that the train leaves in less than an hour and for the house elves to take her trunk upstairs she needs to be finished packing by then.”

Lilian waited until Gemma had disappeared into her and Vanessa’s dorm before darting inside. Betelgeuse was on the bed, and he eyed her as she tried to pick him on.

“Come on buddy,” she said, trying to scoop him into her arms. He wouldn’t budge. She sighed. She didn’t have time for this.

Remembering what Ursula had said, she fished around in his basket and pulled out a catnip toy. She held it up and immediately Betelgeuse perked up.

“Come here,” she said, dropping the toy into the basket. At once Betelgeuse stood, stretched, and trotted over, climbing right into the basket. Lilian shut it quickly and hurried back to her own dorm.

“Here it is!” she said, retrieving the hair brush and holding it high in the air.

Vanessa took it from her with an expression of thanks.

“I saw Ursula,” said Lilian. “She just came down to get her cat ready and now she’s gone to help Adrian.”

Just before half past ten, it was time to head upstairs and catch a carriage to the station. By some miracle, Ursula hurried out of the Great Hall just as Lilian arrived, a look of great relief on her face.

“You’re the best,” she said again

The house elves had brought everyone’s trunk and pets upstairs — or, for the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, down — and put them in the entrance hall. The girls found theirs and dragged them outside, joining the long line of students waiting to board carriages.

“Look at the lake!” shouted a broad-chested fifth year named Chester Davies.

The students all set down their stuff and hurried to see what was happening. Way below them they saw a fleet of little boats — the same fleet that brought first years to Hogwarts — carrying the seventh years back across the lake, led by Hagrid in a boat of his own. The students cheered as loud as they could, and many of the former seventh years waved. Ursula whistled and could swear Nymphadora stood up in her boat and took a bow.

When they were out of sight the students returned to their trunks, cages, and baskets and were soon trundling along towards Hogsmeade Station in the carriages. Ursula and Lilian were joined by Adrian and Cassius, who insisted on helping them with their trunks when it was time to board the train. The seventh years emerged from a narrow path, many with teary faces, and boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your promise of candy,” said Lilian. Ursula laughed.

“You’ve earned it.”

Lilian had recounted her whole adventure while in the carriage and Ursula then told her and the boys about the graduation ceremony. She had decided Adrian and Cassius were trustworthy enough not to spill her secret, as the only people they would tell were each other. The train started to move. The boys left and Ursula and Lilian were joined by Blossom and her friend Lorna. Just as she had promised, Ursula bought a whole load of candy when the trolley came by around one o’clock, and after several more hours they finally pulled into King’s Cross Station.

“My sister’s starting at Hogwarts next year,” said Lilian.

“So is my cousin,” said Ursula. “I’m not sure if they’ll get along, however. My cousin is a little high strung.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to come visit this summer?” asked Lilian.

“Definitely,” replied Ursula.

She gave her friend a hug before loading her stuff on a trolley. The guard let them two by two through the barrier back to the Muggle world, and in moments Ursula was greeted by Draco.


	17. The Carnival

“Ursula! You’re here!”

“Lilian!”

Ursula dropped her bags as Lilian came running out to hug her. Ursula caught the brunette, laughing and exclaiming how happy she was to see her. She was at Lilian’s house, a lovely cottage in the countryside in Hertfordshire, where she’d be staying for the next week. She’d managed to convince Lucius and Narcissa to let her go — a lady doesn’t beg — and now here she was, hugging Lilian, while her uncle waited to talk to Lilian’s parents and a dog barked at her heels.

“Hello Ursula!”

A kind-faced woman with dark brown hair came bustling out of the cottage, wiping her hands on her apron. She pulled Ursula into a hug once Lilian let go.

“And you must be Lucius Malfoy. I’m Caroline Fenharrow,” she said, offering her hand to Lucius.

“You work in the Auror office, correct?” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh please, the pleasure is all ours,” said Caroline. “It’s good for the girls to spend time together outside of school, don’t you think? So we’ll take care of Ursula this week and she’ll be back home safe and sound then. Don’t worry about a thing!”

“Let me show you my room!” said Lilian. Ursula grabbed her bags, bid a quick goodbye to her uncle, and dashed inside after Lilian.

The whole house was inviting, the walls covered in pictures of Lilian and her younger siblings and large windows letting the sunshine stream in. Ursula followed Lilian up the stairs and down a short hallway to her room. Lilian’s room was very colorful, with light green and yellow walls splattered with accents of pale pink. She had bay windows and a window seat and her bed was covered in stuffed animals. The walls were decorated with Slytherin banners and pictures of the Wimbourne Wasps, Lilian’s favorite Quidditch team.

“That’s yours,” said Lilian, pointing to a small couch with a blanket and pillow. Ursula set her bags down gratefully. “Daisy! Down girl!”

This whole time Daisy, Lilian’s Springer Spaniel, had been jumping around Ursula. She stopped after a moment and Ursula pet her soft head.

“Good girl,” cooed Lilian.

“How old is she?” asked Ursula.

“Three,” said Lilian. She pointed to a door opposite the bed. “There’s the bathroom.”

“Your house is wonderful,” gushed Ursula. “So fun and colorful. Your garden is amazing. Everything is bright — was your mom baking bread?”

Lilian nodded. “Well, what’s your house like?” The only time they had been able to meet last summer was at Diagon Alley.

“Not like this,” said Ursula. “The walls are all hung with paintings of ancestors — mostly Malfoys, so not even people I’m related to — and everything is sort of… cold. I love my home,” said Ursula hurriedly, not wanting to give Lilian the wrong impression, “but it kind of feels like the Slytherin common room. Sort of strict, and very traditional. I love our gardens, though.”

“You have peacocks, right?” said Lilian excitedly. “I’d love to meet them someday. Speaking of meeting…” she pointed out the back window, where a couple of kids were playing by a low stone wall. Lilian’s house, the garden, and the lawn were surrounded by this short, crumbling wall, and beyond it the house was guarded in all directions by many tall trees. They had few neighbors, and all of them lived far away. “I want to introduce you to my siblings!”

Lilian led Ursula back downstairs and outside, calling out to her brother and sister when they got close. “Alice! Miles!”

Alice ran right over, skipping with excitement. She and Miles both had dark brown hair like their mother while Lilian’s was much lighter. Ursula knew Alice had been talking about Hogwarts nonstop all summer and was thrilled that she would get to go this year.

“Hi! You’re Ursula right? You’re in Slytherin? With my sister?”

“Yes, yes I am,” said Ursula. “You must be Alice.”

“I am!” said Alice, beaming that she was recognized. “Will you tell me about Hogwarts?”

“I can try,” said Ursula. “I don’t know how much your sister has already told you.”

Alice wrinkled her nose. “She doesn’t tell me enough.”

Lilian rolled her eyes. “Any more specific, and you’ll learn everything and won’t be surprised. What’s the fun in that?”

Alice stuck out her tongue and went bounding off again.

Miles, who was only nine, was much more dignified. Ursula stifled a laugh as he said, “Hello Ms. Black. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Miles Fenharrow.” Then he stuck out his hand for her to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you too, Miles,” said Ursula, shaking his hand. “You have a lovely home. You may call me Ursula.”

“Thank you Ursula,” he said. His expression was very serious. “I am now going to return to my game of Gobstones.”

Ursula looked at Lilian with raised eyebrows. “…Care to explain why he talks like that?”

Lilian sighed. “When he was six, he met this super posh guy who’s book dad edited and started trying to sound fancy. And when I came home for Christmas—” She blushed suddenly and stopped talking.

“You imitated me, didn’t you?” said Ursula, a smile spreading across her face.

Lilian blushed deeper. “Well…”

“I’m not offended,” said Ursula. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’m rather flattered.”

“I was just telling them about you and I got… carried away,” said Lilian, her blush lightening ever so slightly. Ursula threw back her head and laughed.

“Children! Dinner’s ready!”

Caroline opened the back door and stuck her head outside to call them in for dinner. Lilian and Ursula followed her back into their house, and Alice and Miles ran back in from the garden. A tall, thin man with short, chestnut brown hair who wore a sweater vest waited with open arms, and all three of his kids gave him a quick hug.

“Spaghetti bolognese,” said Caroline, waving her wand and sending six plates soaring over to the table.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Fenharrow,” said Ursula. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, dear,” said Caroline.

“Hello Ursula,” said Lilian’s dad, Theodore. “I believe we met last summer.”

“It’s nice to see you again, sir,” Ursula said.

“Please, call me Theodore,” he replied.

“How was your day, dad?” asked Alice.

“Fine, fine,” said Theodore. “I work as an editor at Whizz Hard Books,” he explained to Ursula. “Today I met with a client who wants to publish a book about training Crups — unreadable, and there are plenty out there like it, which I told him — and then I read through a revised copy of  _ Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland _ . What about you, honey?”

“Scrimgeour sent Savage and I to investigate a disturbance in Diagon Alley,” said Caroline. “A disgruntled former employee used the knee-reversal hex on his boss and all his coworkers. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol could have handled it. It took all of five minutes to apprehend the man, and the Improper Use of Magic Office will handle him now.”

“Will he be punished?” asked Lilian.

“He’ll probably just have to pay a fine,” answered her mother.

Once dinner was over, Lilian and Ursula went back up to her room, where they stayed up late rehashing all of their plans for the week and how excited they were, until the sky outside was blanketed with stars and they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, they made it downstairs in time for Caroline to bid them a quick goodbye before work. Theodore was in the kitchen scrambling eggs as he sipped coffee from a mug.

“Cheese? Bacon?” he asked as they sat down on the stools at the counter that divided the kitchen from the dining room.

“Both please,” said Ursula. Lilian said the same thing.

Theodore handed them both a plate of cheesy eggs complete with three pieces of bacon each. He poured orange juice into two glasses and set them both on the counter as well.

“What do you two have planned for today?” he asked as he popped two slices of bread into the toaster.

“I thought we could go swimming!” said Lilian. “And then we might bake a cake.”

“Take your brother and sister with you if you go swimming, please,” said Theodore. “And don’t let Alice challenge Miles to see how long she can hold her breath.”

At that moment, Miles came running down the stairs and into the kitchen in his pajamas.

“Dad, what’s —”

He froze when he saw Lilian and Ursula and immediately a blush rose to his cheeks.

“Good — good morning, Ursula,” he stammered, his blush deepening.

“Nothing for me, huh?” remarked Lilian dryly.

“Here’s eggs and toast for you, kiddo,” said Theodore, ruffling his son’s already messy hair and handing him a plate. “You’re going to go swimming with your sister and her friend today, okay?”

“Okay,” said Miles softly. He didn’t look at any of them as he scurried out of the kitchen, plate in hand.

“That was weird,” remarked Lilian.

Soon breakfast had been eaten — Lilian had taken great pleasure in rousing Alice by jumping on her bed — and Theodore left for work, leaving the kids alone for the day.

“We’re going swimming,” announced Lilian. Alice yawned. “Go put your swimsuit on.”

Ursula changed in the bathroom before grabbing a bottle of sunscreen from her bag and using copious amounts on her skin. It was, of course, a magical brand of sunscreen, made by the same company that produced Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion; Lucius would never have allowed the use of a Muggle product, even if it worked just as well.

“I don’t want to get a sunburn,” she explained to Lilian.

“I’m so glad I tan,” she said. “Alice is the one who gets sunburned like our dad. That’s why she’s covered in freckles.”

Once they were all ready, Lilian led the way down a little path through the woods for some time, until they reached a rocky beach surrounding a lovely lake. A short cliff jutted out over the water, which Lilian assured Ursula was deep enough to jump in. A few Muggle boys played on the opposite shore.

Alice ran right off the edge of the cliff, which could barely even be called such as it was perhaps seven feet, and squealed as she hit the water. Ursula and Lilian followed, and then all three girls turned to encourage Miles.

“Come on!”

“You can do it!”

“Jump!”

He took a deep breath, backed up a few steps, and ran and jumped off the end. The girls cheered as he landed in the water with a splash and they all moved to shallower water where he could stand.

“Good job,” said Ursula.

Miles wouldn’t look her in the eye. He seemed to be blushing again.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

Lilian caught Ursula’s elbow as Alice went to jump in again.

“I think Miles has a crush on you,” she said confidently.

“Preposterous,” said Ursula, half laughing.

“No, hear me out,” said Lilian. “He’s constantly blushing around you, he gets nervous when you compliment him… he definitely has a crush!” Her voice rose on the last word and Ursula shushed her.

“Well don’t tease him about it,” she said anxiously. “I mean, it’s never going to happen but I don’t want him to feel bad.”

Lilian rolled her eyes.

“You’re too nice,” she said. “Fine, I won’t tease him  _ too  _ badly, and I won’t do it until you’re gone. Happy?”

Ursula splashed her.

“Fine.”

“Hey Miles!” shouted Alice. “How about —”

“No!” said Lilian. “Dad said no holding your breath.”

Alice huffed and pouted and Lilian splashed her. They spent the rest of the morning splashing about in the lake, and it was well after lunchtime when they finally trudged back, exhilarated and wet, to the house. They all showered and had lunch, and then Lilian and Ursula got to work making a chocolate cake.

“I overheard my mum saying the Boy Who Lived was starting Hogwarts this year,” said Lilian as she poured the batter into the tins.

“My uncle said the same thing,” said Ursula, opening the oven door for her. “He told Draco and I about him at breakfast.”

“How strange would that be?” said Lilian. “I mean, for everyone to know your name and to be responsible for defeating You-Know-Who.”

“It would be a lot of pressure, I imagine,” said Ursula.

Once the cakes were out of the oven and cooled, the girls whipped up a big batch of chocolate frosting and pitted a bag of cherries. They had lots of fun covering the cake in frosting and cherries, as well as eating the leftovers from a big bowl with spoons. The girls served the cake that night for dessert and got positive responses all around.

The next morning, after Theodore and Caroline had left for work, Ursula and Lilian set out to explore the woods with Daisy. Mostly they were out looking for a tree to climb. A lady doesn’t climb trees, but Ursula had snuck through the gardens on a number of occasions to climb trees looking for wild animals.

“This one looks good,” said Lilian, coming to a stop before a mighty oak tree with thick, sturdy looking branches.

She grabbed the lowest branch and hauled herself up. Ursula followed, climbing slowly and surely up the tree. It was quite a tall one, and soon they were among the canopy of the forest, leaves tangling in their hair. Ursula settled herself on a branch that allowed her to look out over the lower trees, listening to the sounds of nature and of Lilian grunting as she climbed.

Ursula heard a yelp and looked down.

“Lilian? Are you okay?”

She slithered down a few branches until she could see her friend, panting as she came to a stop on a mossy branch.

“I’m —”

A loud crack cut her off as the branch she was sitting on snapped, sending Lilian plummeting to the ground.

“Lilian!” shouted Ursula, thrusting out her hands, though there was no way to help her friend from up here. Then the most peculiar thing happened.

Just feet from the ground, Lilian stopped midair.

_ Accidental magic _ , thought Ursula. The second she thought about it, however, the magic released, and Lilian hit the ground with a thump.

Ursula scurried down the tree as fast as she could, jumping off the last branch. Lilian was sitting calmly on the ground with Daisy, who barked and jumped around her.

“Lilian! Are you okay?”

Lilian looked up at her, eyes open wide.

“That was awesome!” She jumped to her feet, pulling sticks from her hair. “I mean, not the fall, but you saving me! You used accidental magic!”

“Yeah,” said Ursula. She was too concerned for her friend’s safety to care. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine!” said Lilian. They began the trek back to the house, and the whole way Lilian ranted about Ursula’s use of magic.

“Can we play Quidditch?” asked Alice immediately, as soon as they got back to the house. She had been waiting for them, it seemed.

“After lunch,” said Lilian. “If Ursula’s up for it.”

“I’m happy to play,” said Ursula. “Do you have a broom I can borrow?”

After lunch they set up just two short Quidditch hoops and grabbed broomsticks from the shed. The trees surrounding the house were tall and the nearest neighbors were some distance away, so as long as they didn’t fly too high they’d be okay. Ursula used Theodore’s old Cleansweep Five, which was in remarkably good condition, and they played with just a Quaffle.

“How about me and Miles versus you and Alice?” suggested Lilian.

“Sounds good to me,” said Ursula.

They all kicked off from the ground. Lilian tossed the Quaffle into the air and Alice caught it. She went zooming off towards the goalpost, with Ursula flying behind her to keep Lilian and Miles away. Alice threw the Quaffle completely unopposed and it soared easily through the hoop. Twenty minutes later, Alice and Ursula had scored two and five more times respectively, while Miles had made just one shot. Lilian called for a timeout.

“I see now it was a mistake,” she panted, “to put the two of you together. Alice, switch with Miles please.”

Their teams now switched, they took to the air again. The game was a bit more balanced, and Lilian was able to make two shots over the course of it, but Ursula and Miles remained steadily ahead.

“Come on Miles!” shouted Ursula as Miles sped towards the opposite goalpost. She dived, effectively blocking Lilian’s path, and all Miles had to do was get past Alice. He went low and at the last second shot up, so that Alice dived, leaving the shot clear.

“Yeah!”

Ursula high fived Miles then took off down the pitch, as Alice tossed the Quaffle to Lilian. She could almost swear Miles blushed again.

“Having fun?”

Theodore had returned home, and he shouted up at the kids with his hands cupped around his mouth. They all waved. Lilian took the opportunity to shoot, but Ursula caught the Quaffle. She soared down the pitch, bypassing Alice and Lilian who was on her tail, and made a final goal. Alice retrieved the Quaffle and they all landed and stowed their brooms away.

“Good game!” said Theodore, giving them all high fives. “Glad to see my old Cleansweep still works.”

Now they really were exhausted, after a long day of swimming and playing Quidditch, and after dinner it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep. Before that, though, Lilian asked Ursula, “What’s your favorite Quidditch team?”

“Puddlemere United,” answered Ursula without hesitation. “I also like the Flagstaff Fireworks.”

“Who are they?” said Lilian, rolling over to face her.

“An American team,” explained Ursula, “from Flagstaff, Arizona. It’s the best one in the state and my dad’s favorite. What about you? What’s your favorite team?”

“The Wimbourne Wasps,” replied Lilian. “My mum took me to a game when I was little and I’ve loved them ever since.”

“That’s sweet,” said Ursula. “My great-grandparents live in Dorset and I always love getting to see Puddlemere United play at home.”

The next morning, both Ursula and Lilian were up early so they headed downstairs, managing to catch Caroline before work for the first time in Ursula’s stay. Caroline began to make them breakfast, and kept glancing at Ursula with an odd expression on her face.

“I knew your mum, you know,” said Caroline at last, as she set a plate of waffles in front of Ursula.

“You did?” asked Ursula, completely taken by surprise. “What was she like?”

“She was several years younger than me, mind you,” said Caroline. “Three years, I think. She was probably the friendliest Slytherin I’ve ever met. Always smiling, always laughing. Fiercely loyal to her friends.”

Ursula felt tears rise in her eyes and blinked rapidly.

“What else do you remember?” she asked hoarsely.

“I remember she was  _ so _ kind and so outgoing that she stood out, especially since this was during the war with You-Know-Who and people weren’t as friendly then, especially to Slytherins. I remember —” she chuckled “— I remember that starting in her second year, she would hand out flowers to every single fifth and seventh year, claiming that the flowers would give them good luck on their OWLs and their NEWTs. I swear she must have charmed those flowers or something because I got an O on all of my NEWTs. She gave me an iris that year, I believe.”

Caroline smiled, fondly revisiting the memory.

“Another reason I remember her is she was a damn good Quidditch player —”

Ursula’s fork clanged against her plate.

“She was?!”

Caroline nodded.

“She refused to try out for the Quidditch team. It made Lucinda Talkalot — my dorm mate and the captain at the time — furious.”

“I never knew that,” said Ursula quietly.

“Oh dear, is that the time?” said Caroline. “Sorry girls, I have to run. Theodore’s taking the day off today, saying there’s a terrible gnome problem in the garden. If you could help him that’d be great. Have a good day!”

She practically flew out the door.

“You know,” said Lilian, turning to face Ursula, “you don’t talk about your mum and dad much. I mean, I understand if you don’t want to, but…”

She trailed off. Ursula took a deep breath.

“No, no, I can tell you about them,” she said. “As my best friend, you should know. You already know that my mum died when I was little and that my dad works in America. I’m sure you’ve heard of my family?”

Lilian nodded. Every pureblood — and many halfbloods — had heard of the Black family.

“Well my mom was set to marry this Death Eater named Antonin Dolohov but she didn’t want to, so she lied about going to France for a while and went to America instead, to see my dad. My dad works at a thunderbird sanctuary in Arizona, as you know. They had been friends in school, but nothing more. He was a Hufflepuff and she was set to have an arranged marriage, but they were good friends. My mom came back from America and just disappeared about a month later.”

“That’s when she had you?” guessed Lilian. Ursula nodded.

“Correct. She stayed with my Aunt Andromeda and Uncle Ted — she always loved her sister, even after Andromeda was disowned — and after I was born she moved to a flat in Muggle London. She had three of these flats, two in Muggle London and one in Diagon Alley. Well, after about two years of hiding with me in plain sight…” Her voice wobbled. “Antonin Dolohov found her, and… and… and murdered her. My mum hid me in the closet and told me not to come out or make a sound, no matter what happened. I remember…” She shook her head. “It was brutal. Afterwards, I stayed in the closet until Aunt Narcissa found me, and I’ve lived at Malfoy Manor ever since. She and Uncle Lucius sold the flat that my mum… they sold that one, but I still have the other two. They might come in handy someday.”

“Thanks for telling me all that,” said Lilian quietly.

“I’m not done yet,” replied Ursula. “I still have to tell you about my dad. I’m sure you want to know who he is. Well, I don’t want you telling anyone — it’s not like it’s a big secret or anything, it just isn’t common knowledge — but my dad is Kenneth Scamander.”

“Scamander? Like Newt Scamander? Like the author of our textbook?” Lilian was shocked. Ursula laughed.

“Yes, like that Newt Scamander,” she said. “He’s my great-grandfather. The one who lives in Dorset. He gave me Betelgeuse.”

“Wow,” said Lilian. “That explains why your copy of his book is signed.”

They both laughed. Just then, Alice came down the stairs.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Lilian.

After breakfast, they hung out in Lilian’s room for a while, before Theodore asked them to help in the garden.

“I’ve never done a degnoming before,” said Ursula as they headed outside.

“Really? Don’t you have, like, a huge garden?” Lilian’s brows furrowed. Ursula blushed.

“We, um, we have house elves that take care of that part,” she said.

“Well it’s easy,” said Lilian. “I’ll show you.”

She bent down, fished around for a moment in a peony bush, and pulled out a gnome, holding it at arm’s length by its ankles. The gnome was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head like a potato and horny little feet.

“You have to make them dizzy,” she explained, “so that they can’t find their way back to the gnome holes. It doesn’t hurt them. Try and get them past the wall, but if you can really get a good swing you can make it past the fence.”

Lilian began to swing the gnome above her head in great circles, before letting go of the gnome’s ankles. It flew a good thirty feet in the air before landing with a small thud beyond the little stone wall.

“There you go,” she said. “Your turn.”

It was easy, Ursula discovered, to get rid of the gnomes, and soon Alice and Miles joined in. A steady wave of gnomes flew overhead, over the stone wall and occasionally over the far away gate, and eventually the gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line.

The next day, after Caroline and Theodore had left for work, Lilian suggested they go into town for lunch instead of staying at home. She and Ursula strode up the winding road for some time, chatting the whole way. Eventually they reached the little town, which featured a picturesque cobblestone street lined with pretty little shops.

After a delicious lunch of fish and chips, they strolled along the sidewalk, occasionally popping into stores. Ursula had to stop Lilian from buying a typewriter at the antique shop, on account of how heavy it would be to carry home.

They both bought two scoops of ice cream on a cone — chocolate for Lilian and strawberry for Ursula — and then began the long walk home. By the time they returned, their ice cream was finished and their hands were sticky. Alice begged them to go swimming and they obliged, doing even more walking on the path to and from the lake.

On Ursula’s last day, a Saturday, both Caroline and Theodore stayed home so they could take the children to a carnival in town.

It was mid afternoon when they arrived, and the carnival was in full swing. Ursula had never seen anything like it, and judging by the expression on Lilian’s face, she hadn’t either. She immediately dragged Ursula over to the nearest attraction, a game where you had to hit a moving target with a ball hard enough to knock it over. It took Lilian four tries, but she finally managed it, and she won a yoyo as a result.

They had great fun wandering around the carnival, winning little prizes like stickers from throwing a ring around a box and a rubber duck from fishing for a pingpong ball. They purchased delicious caramel apples from a stand and even rode a small train that took them all around the carnival. To the delight of his children and Ursula, Theodore agreed to climb in the dunk tank, and they each got a chance to dunk him in the water. After completing a maze of mirrors, Caroline called them over to a small table for dinner; she had bought a large pizza for them to share.

They continued to run around the festival as dusk crept in and the evening grew darker. Ursula convinced Lilian to ride bumper cars, and they had great fun knocking into one another over and over. They reached a booth that promised if you could knock down the tower of pins you would win a stuffed animal. It proved to be rather difficult — the pins were rather hard to knock down, and each time they tried the person working the booth seemed to smile wider and wider.

“Let me do it,” muttered Ursula, taking the ball from Lilian. She chucked it as hard as she could at the tower of pins. She didn’t know if it was luck, strength, or accidental magic, but at last the tower came crashing down.

The worker’s grin grew smaller as he handed her a large purple teddy bear, and it vanished altogether when she won a matching blue bear for Lilian. They had just purchased large cones of cotton candy when Caroline called them over.

“Girls! Come here!”

They joined the rest of Lilian’s family at the base of the large ferris wheel. Though it looked safe and moved slowly, Ursula and Lilian had avoided it out of caution.

“In you get,” said Caroline, ushering them into a seat. Alice and Miles got in the car behind them, with Caroline and Theodore bringing up the rear.

The ferris wheel began to turn, and Lilian and Ursula gasped. As they rose higher and higher above the carnival, they could see more and more of it. Lights twinkled from every booth and stall, people ran about even in the darkness, and stars patterned the velvety sky above.

It was unlike anything Ursula had ever experienced, looking down on the town from above. It was different from riding a broom or a thunderbird, and though it was a Muggle contraption it felt magical.

“It’s like magic,” breathed Lilian, voicing Ursula’s thoughts. Her eyes were wide as she took in the scene stretched out below.

It was beautiful.

Too soon, the ride ended, and Lilian’s parents allowed them to go just one more time. They left the carnival, clutching their prizes and the memories they made, and once they were out of sight of the Muggles each adult Apparated two of the children home.

Ursula layed awake for some time that night, just remembering every aspect of the fun she’d had that day, and over the whole visit. She fell asleep holding the bear she’d won.

The next morning, Ursula packed up all of her stuff before breakfast so that she’d be ready when Uncle Lucius arrived to pick her up. She thanked Theodore and Caroline for letting her stay — to which they said, “Of course dear.” and “It was our pleasure!” — and had just finished hugging Alice and Miles when a knock sounded on the door.

“I’m so glad I got to stay,” said Ursula, hugging Lilian last. “Thank you so much for having me. It was so much fun.”

“I’m so happy you got to come!” said Lilian. “I’ll miss you!”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” said Ursula with a laugh, “but I’ll miss you too.”

She waved to them all and followed Uncle Lucius out the door, carrying her bags, into which she had awkwardly crammed her prizes.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he prepared to Apparate them both home.

“It was amazing,” she answered. “You have no idea.”


	18. The Boy Who Lived

“Ursula, wake up! Look, my letter came!”

Ursula rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as Draco jumped up and down beside her bed, waving a yellow envelope with the address written in emerald green ink.

“Are you going to open it or just stand there waving it about all day?” she asked dryly.

Draco practically tore open the envelope, pulling out the two pieces of parchment within.

“This means we can finally go to Diagon Alley,” he said. “We should go today.”

“That’s up to your mother and father,” said Ursula. “Why don’t you go ask them, and I’ll be down for breakfast in a minute?”

He took her suggestion and left her room. Ursula yawned, her jaw popping, and got dressed. If Draco’s letter had arrived then hers surely would have as well. Draco was whining when she arrived downstairs, and she gathered that they would not be going to Diagon Alley today, as she had expected.

“Don’t whine, Draco,” said Lucius. “You’re above such things. I have a very important meeting with the Minister for Magic today. Tomorrow you and Ursula will accompany Narcissa to your grandfather’s house.”

“Then when can we go?” asked Draco.

“How about next Thursday?” suggested Lucius. “That works for you, Ursula, does it not?”

Ursula nodded.

“I’m visiting my father on Saturday and Sunday, I have lessons with Madam Tripe on Monday and Wednesday, Aunt Narcissa is taking me to visit Aunt Cassiopeia on Tuesday, and we have tea with the Rowles on Wednesday,” she listed. Truth be told, she was actually visiting Andromeda, Ted, and Nymphadora and her dad would be joining them, but Lucius didn’t need to know that.

“It’s settled then,” said Lucius before Draco could whine anymore. He unfolded his newspaper with a snap.

“A letter for Mistress Ursula,” said Weezy. She held up a small silver platter, on which was Ursula’s letter and an engraved letter opener.

“Thank you Weezy,” said Ursula. She picked up the letter and lifted the wax seal, having no need for the letter opener. She pulled out three sheets of parchment. The one on top read:

Hogwarts School  
of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards.)

Dear Ms. Black,

Please note that the new school year will begin September 1st. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King’s Cross Station, Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, at eleven o’clock.

Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed form to your parent or guardian to sign. A list of books for next year is enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

“Uncle Lucius,” said Ursula. “Would you please sign my Hogsmeade permission form?”

“Sure,” he said, before snapping, “Quill!” at Dobby, who hurried to oblige.

“Cheer up,” said Ursula to Draco, who was stirring his oatmeal dejectedly. “You’ve got your letter, haven’t you? This week will go by fast, you’ll see.”

~~~

“Harry — yer a wizard.”

“I’m a  _ what _ ?” gasped Harry.

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

“A wizard, o’ course,” said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, “an’ a thumpin’ good’un, I’d say, once yeh’ve been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.”

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

**Hogwarts School**

**of** **Witchcraft** **and** **Wizardry**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,**

**Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards.)**

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A train will depart at 11:00 AM from Platform 9 and** **_¾_ ** **at King’s Cross Station in London, England on the 1st of September. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall,**

**Deputy Headmistress**

Questions exploded inside Harry’s head like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, “What does it mean, they await my owl?”

“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet 40 another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:

_ Dear Professor Dumbledore, _

_ Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're Well. _

_ Hagrid _

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

“Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

“He’s not going,” he said.

Hagrid grunted.

“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said.

“A what?” said Harry, interested.

“A Muggle,” said Hagrid, “it’s what we call non-magic folk like thern. An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.”

“We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, “swore we’d stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!”

“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?”

“Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

“Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you’d be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — abnormal — and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!”

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, “Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!”

“CAR CRASH!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. “How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin’ his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!”

“But why? What happened?” Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid’s face. He looked suddenly anxious.

“I never expected this,” he said, in a low, worried voice. “I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, I don’ know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh — but someone’s gotta — yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts not knowin’.”

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

“Well, it’s best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can’t tell yeh everythin’, it’s a great mystery, parts of it…”

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, “It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows —”

“Who?”

“Well — I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.”

“Why not?”

“Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…”

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

“Could you write it down?” Harry suggested.

“Nah — can’t spell it. All right — Voldemort. “ Hagrid shuddered. “Don’ make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood up to him — an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway.”

“Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an’ girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the mystery is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ‘em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.”

“Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just wanted ‘em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ — an’ —”

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

“Sorry,” he said. “But it’s that sad — knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn’t find — anyway…”

“You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then — an’ this is the real mystery of the thing — he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That’s what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even — but it didn’t work on you, an’ that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts — an’ you was only a baby, an’ you lived.”

Something very painful was going on in Harry’s mind. As Hagrid’s story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before — and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

“Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…”

“Load of old tosh,” said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

“Now, you listen here, boy,” he snarled, “I accept there’s something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn’t have cured — and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion — asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew they’d come to a sticky end —”

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, “I’m warning you, Dursley — I’m warning you — one more word…”

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon’s courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

“That’s better,” said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

“But what happened to Vol— sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?”

“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest mystery, see… he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful — why’d he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he was comin’ back.”

“Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ‘Cause somethin’ about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.”

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He’d spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn’t they been turned into warty toads every time they’d tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he’d once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a wizard.”

To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

“Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?”

Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry… chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach… dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back… and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

“See?” said Hagrid. “Harry Potter, not a wizard — you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.”

But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight.

“Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” he hissed. “He’s going to Stonewall High and he’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —”

“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t know himself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled—”

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head.

“NEVER,” he thundered, “— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — OF — ME!”

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

“Shouldn’t a lost me temper,” he said ruefully, “but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.”

He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.

“Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,” he said. “I’m — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff — one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job.”

“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” asked Harry.

“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”

“Why were you expelled?”

“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow,” said Hagrid loudly. “Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an’ that.”

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

“You can kip under that,” he said. “Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”

~~~

“Is it time to go yet?” asked Draco for the third time. His mother finished her tea and set down her cup.

“Alright then,” she said. “Go get your list.”

Ursula could hear him run up the stairs. She followed her aunt and uncle into the entrance hall as they waited for Draco to return. She had put her list in her pocket before breakfast, so she had no need to return to her room. Lucius and Narcissa Apparated them to the Leaky Cauldron. They stopped Gringotts before purchasing potions ingredients and quills for both Ursula and Draco.

“Draco, why don’t you go to Madam Malkin’s to get your robes?” suggested Lucius. He was bored already. “I’ll buy your textbooks.”

“I’ll look at wands,” said Narcissa. “Ursula, why don’t you buy your books and then join Draco?”

They split up. Narcissa headed farther up the street than Draco, and Lucius and Ursula turned into Flourish & Blotts. It was crowded, as usual, but she didn’t spot any of her friends yet.

She had lots of books to buy this year, seeing as she was taking three new classes. She found  _ The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts _ by Arsenius Jigger first and then perused the shelves for a new copy of  _ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection _ by Quentin Trimble. Her last one was rather tattered. Ursula had just found  _ Common Creatures and Bewildering Beasts _ by Peregrine Avian for her Care of Magical Creatures class when she spied a familiar face.

“Cedric!”

“Hey Ursula,” he said, coming around the bookshelf to talk to her. “You’re taking that class as well?” He gestured to the book she was holding and picked one off the shelf for himself.

She nodded.

“I’m also taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”

“Same,” he said. “How’s your summer been?”

“Pretty good,” she said. “I visited Lilian and my father came to stay. How about you? I assume you plan on playing Quidditch again?” Cedric had made the Hufflepuff team as a seeker last year.

“For sure,” he said. “I practiced a lot over the summer. You should try out for Slytherin now that Bole’s gone. I’ve seen you play for fun with Adrian. You’re good.”

She blushed.

“Thanks, but I’m not trying out this year. Adrian is, though. I’m going to wait until Orpington leaves. I’ll try out next year.”

“Then let me be the first to wish you good luck,” said Cedric. She laughed. “I’ll see you in Transfiguration, yeah?”

She nodded and he left.

Ursula selected a copy of  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ by Emeric Switch and  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 _ by Miranda Goshawk before moving deeper into the store, in search of  _ Potions, Poisons, Antidotes, and More! _ by Wilhelmine Yanidec. She found it, ducked around a shelf to avoid a student she didn’t like, and grabbed  _ A Guide to Constellations _ by Borealis Tide. After finding  _ Spellman’s Syllabary _ revised by Rosana Amorim and  _ Numerology and Grammatica _ by Octavius Perio, she paid for her books and headed next door to Madam Malkin’s.

“Hello Hagrid!”

The gamekeeper beamed down at her as she came up beside him. He was holding two enormous ice cream cones and seemed to be waiting for someone. She looked inside the window to see Draco standing next to a scrawny boy with messy black hair.

“Hello Ursula!” he boomed. “Had a good summer?”

“Yes,” she said. “How about you?”

“Had a bit o’ fun, meself,” said Hagrid, glancing at the boy inside. “I see yer carryin’ yer new books. What classes are yeh takin’?”

“Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures,” said Ursula. She pulled  _ Common Creatures and Bewildering Beasts _ out of her stack and showed it to him.

“Professor Kettleburn’s a wild one,” said Hagrid, chuckling. “I’m glad to see yeh got an interest in magical creatures.”

“Good to see you Hagrid!” said Ursula as she headed inside.

“See yeh at Hogwarts,” said Hagrid, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Ursula entered Madam Malkin’s and saw the scrawny boy heading towards her, his face scrunched into a frown.

“Hello,” she said, giving him a smile. The boy looked up at her. She saw that he made an effort to relax his shoulders and smile back as he left the shop. She strolled to the back and Madam Malkin put her on the now empty stoll next to Draco.

“What were you doing out there?” said Draco at once.

“Talking,” said Ursula. “What were you saying to the boy in here?”

Draco shrugged.

“We discussed Quidditch,” he drawled. “His parents were dead, which is a pity, but at least they were like us.”

Ursula sighed and said nothing. She felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. The witch fitting Draco finished and he hopped off the stool.

“Wait for me,” she called before he could leave. “Your father is still next door finding your books.”

“Alright,” said Draco. “But I want to look at owls next.”

~~~

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn’t know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn’t have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he’d had in his whole life — more money than even Dudley had ever had.

“Might as well get yer uniform,” said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. “Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts.”

He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin’s shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

“Hogwarts, dear?” she said, when Harry started to speak. “Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

“Have you got your own broom?” the boy went on.

“No,” said Harry.

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

“I do — Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“No,” said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm,” said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

“I say, look at that man!” said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn’t come in.

“That’s Hagrid,” said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn’t. “He works at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” said the boy, “I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“He’s the gamekeeper,” said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage — lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed. I say, why  _ is  _ she talking to him?”

A girl with long black hair now stood beside Hagrid, clutching a large stack of books as she chatted with him. Hagrid seemed pleased to see her, so Harry thought she couldn’t be as bad as the boy he was talking to.

“That’s my cousin,” said the boy. “I don’t know what she’s doing. She’s above socializing with the likes of  _ him _ .”

“I think he’s brilliant,” said Harry coldly.

“Do you?” said the boy, with a slight sneer. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead,” said Harry shortly. He didn’t feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

“Oh, sorry,” said the other, not sounding sorry at all. “But they were our kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, “That’s you done, my dear,” and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” said the drawling boy.

At that moment, his cousin entered just as Harry was leaving.

“Hello,” she said with a smile. He smiled back, still feeling dejected after his conversation with the boy, and left.

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

“What’s up?” said Hagrid.

“Nothing,” Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, “Hagrid, what’s Quidditch?”

“Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin’ how little yeh know — not knowin’ about Quidditch!”

“Don’t make me feel worse,” said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pate boy in Madam Malkin’s.

“— and he said people from Muggle families shouldn’t even be allowed in.”

“Yer not from a Muggle family. If he’d known who yeh were — he’s grown up knowin’ yer name if his parents are wizardin’ folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o’ the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in ‘em in a long line o’ Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!”

“Who was that girl you were talking to?” asked Harry.

“That’s Ursula Black,” said Hagrid. “She’s a nice girl, knows I like magical creatures an’ all that.”

“So what is Quidditch?”

“It’s our sport. Wizard sport. It’s like — like soccer in the Muggle world — everyone follows Quidditch — played up in the air on broomsticks and there’s four balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules.”

“And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?”

“School houses. There’s four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o’ duffers, but —”

“I bet I’m in Hufflepuff,” said Harry gloomily.

“Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin,” said Hagrid darkly. “There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one.”

“Vol—, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?”

“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid.

~~~

“Dobby is sent to ask if Mistress Ursula is ready,” said Dobby, weeks later, on the morning of September 1st. “Dobby can carry Mistress Ursula’s trunk if she is.”

“Thank you Dobby,” said Ursula. “Yes, I’m ready.”

She closed her trunk. Dobby snapped his fingers and both him and the trunk disappeared. Ursula picked up Agatha’s cage and Betelgeuse’s basket and headed down the stairs. Draco came down moments later, his handsome eagle owl giving a disgruntled hoot at being caged.

They arrived at King’s Cross Station with plenty of time — a full half hour — and though it was crowded it was not as full as it might have been, as it was Sunday morning. Draco went first through the barrier and Ursula followed.

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was filled with people. The hiss of the steam billowing overhead combined with the chatter of voices, and they wove through the crowd searching out familiar faces.

Draco found his friends, a tall, weedy boy named Theodore Nott and a pair of large, thickset boys who acted as Draco’s bodyguards.

“Vincent, Gregory,” drawled Ursula by way of greeting. She had never cared much for the pair — they were mean and bad-tempered — but like a lady she referred to them by their first names, instead of as Crabbe and Goyle like Draco did. “Theodore.”

Ursula turned her attention away from them, scanning for her own friends. She found one, a sandy brunette who had grown over the summer.

“Hello Cassius,” said Ursula, strolling over to him. “You’ve grown.”

“It’s good to see you,” said Cassius. “So have you.”

He was standing a pace or two away from the rest of his family. His sister Aurelia, a second year, had already disappeared but his younger brother and other two sisters stood by his parents. Ursula gave them a small wave and the smallest — seven year old Priscilla — gave an excited wave back.

“Are you waiting for Adrian?”

Cassius nodded.

“I’ll see you on the train,” he said, as Ursula headed back to her family.

Theodore and the bodyguards had left, and in their place were two girls, each with their parents. Daphne Greengrass was the taller of the two, with calm eyes and wavy dark brown hair, while Pansy Parkinson stood with pursed lips, her brown hair stick-straight.

“Ah, Ursula Black, isn’t it?” said Mr. Greengrass enthusiastically. On the few occasions Ursula had met him, she always thought he was nice enough and was livelier than most of the purebloods the Malfoys associated with.

“Yes sir,” she said, with a polite nod.

“The Greengrasses and the Parkinsons were just introducing their daughters, who are beginning their first year today,” explained Narcissa. “They were wondering if you would act as a role model for them at Hogwarts.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Ursula, smiling first to their parents and then to the girls themselves.

“Good, then that’s all settled,” said Mr. Parkinson. “It’s all about the connections, don’t you think, Lucius?”

Ursula excused herself from the conversation. She had just spotted another familiar face, one she very much wanted to see.

“Dad!” she said, running over to give him a hug.

“Hello little one!” he said. He still called her that, even if she was no longer little, and she didn’t stop him. “Are you ready for your third year?”

“Very.”

“You’ve got Care of Magical Creatures, right?”

“Of course,” she said.

“I remember when Professor Kettleburn lost half of his leg,” said Ken. “I was there! He hasn’t got much left to lose now.” She giggled. “Don’t feel pressured because of our family, though. I want you to do well and I know you enjoy it, but I hope you enjoy your other classes as well.”

“I will,” she said. “I’m excited.”

“Have fun!” he said, giving her one more hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad,” she said.

By the time Ursula returned again to her family, it was time to board the train. Her aunt and uncle hugged her, and then she led Draco, Daphne, and Pansy onboard.

“Here’s your compartment,” she said, showing the girls to the compartment where they had stowed their trunks. Inside was Millicent Bulstrode, a large girl with shoulder length black hair. “I’ll be further up the train if you need me, and I’ll see you both at Hogwarts.”

Not waiting for a reply, she shut the door behind them and led Draco up the train. A whistle blew, and the last of the students jumped on board.

“I want to introduce you to someone,” said Ursula, “before you join your friends.”

She reached her compartment, where Lilian was waiting in the corridor with Alice.

“You are?” asked Draco, in an unfortunately snotty voice.

“Draco, this is Alice Fenharrow,” said Ursula. “Alice, this is Draco Malfoy.”

They regarded each other with narrowed eyes. Alice curled her lip. Sensing an impending disaster, Ursula said, “Great, you’ve met, now let’s get you to your compartment.”

Ursula returned to her compartment after seeing Draco reach his friends. Alice was still there, staring after Draco.

“I don’t like him,” she said at last. Ursula and Lilian exchanged a glance and both fought to hold back giggles. Lilian ushered her sister into a compartment with twins and a curly haired girl, all of whom were first years, and when the door was shut and they were alone in their compartment they both burst out laughing.

“That could have gone better,” said Ursula.

“Or a lot worse,” amended Lilian. “That was good thinking to pull Draco away before Alice could be rude.”

“I didn’t want  _ Draco  _ to be rude,” said Ursula, leading them to laugh again.

The compartment door slid open and in came Cassius and Adrian.

“What’s so funny?” asked the latter.

“You explain,” said Lilian to Ursula, as she lapsed into a fresh bout of giggles.

~~~

“— packed with Muggles, of course —”

Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry’s in front of him — and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” said the boys’ mother.

“Nine and three-quarters!” piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, “Mum, can’t I go…”

“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first.”

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it —but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

“Fred, you next,” the plump woman said.

“I’m not Fred, I’m George,” said the boy. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Sorry, George, dear.”

“Only joking, I am Fred,” said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone — but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there — and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

“Excuse me,” Harry said to the plump woman.

“Hello, dear,” she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.”

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

“Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is — the thing is, I don’t know how to —”

“How to get onto the platform?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

“Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.”

“Er — okay,” said Harry.

He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk toward it.

People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he’d be in trouble — leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run — the barrier was coming nearer and nearer — he wouldn’t be able to stop — the cart was out of control — he was a foot away — he closed his eyes ready for the crash —

It didn’t come… he kept on running… he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”

“Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

“Give us a look, Lee, go on.”

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. A short, brown haired girl beside him punched him in the arm.

Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

“Want a hand?”

It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the barrier.

“Yes, please,” Harry panted.

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

“Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s that?” said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.

“Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you —”

“He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry.

“What?” said Harry.

“Harry Potter,” chorused the twins.

“Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.”

~~~

“You’re still planning on trying out, right Adrian?” said Ursula. Adrian nodded.

“I still can’t see why you won’t try out this year,” he replied. “Even as a reserve.”

Ursula shook her head.

“I told you, I’ll try out next year,” she said. “I’m not competing with you for this spot, and Vanessa said that her brother William wants it as well.” Adrian gulped. William Shafiq was a burly, no-nonsense sixth year. As if reading his mind, Ursula said, “Relax, you’re a better flier than he is. I’ll try out once Orpington’s gone. Besides, I’m only a third year  _ and  _ I’m a girl. Marcus Flint won’t pick a girl for the team unless she flies perfectly.”

“I don’t know why you’re waiting,” said Adrian, “But thanks for the vote of confidence. And I guess you’re right; but you’ve got the talent to prove yourself to an oaf like Flint.”

“I doubt it’s wise to insult your future captain,” said Ursula with a laugh. “But thank you.”

~~~

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

“Anyone sitting here?” he asked, pointing to the seat opposite Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

“Hey, Ron.”

The twins were back.

“Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train — Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” mumbled Ron.

“Harry,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.”

“Bye,” said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

“Oh — well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes,” said Ron. “And have you really got — you know…”

He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who —”

“Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.”

“Nothing?” said Ron eagerly.

“Well — I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”

“Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

“Er — yes, I think so," said Ron. “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you must know loads of magic already.”

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?”

“Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.”

“Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.”

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

“His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff — I mean, I got Scabbers instead.”

Ron’s ears went pink. He seemed to think he’d said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Harry didn’t think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he’d never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about having to wear Dudley’s old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

“… and until Hagrid told me, I didn’t know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort —”

Ron gasped.

“What?” said Harry.

“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. “I’d have thought you, of all people —”

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” said Harry, “I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn… I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, “I bet I’m the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.”

~~~

Draco couldn’t believe it when he heard Harry Potter was on the train. He’d heard the rumor of him attending Hogwarts this year, of course, but he couldn’t believe it was the same boy he had met in Diagon Alley. He marched down to his compartment with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, sliding open the door while the redhead across from Harry Potter was talking about Quidditch.

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” said Harry. Draco saw him stare at Crabbe and Goyle, who loomed behind him like bodyguards.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle,” said Draco carelessly, far more interested in Harry. “And my name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

The redhead across from Harry coughed, hiding a snigger. Draco bristled at once.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” he said. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

Weasley glared at him. Draco turned back to Harry.

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He stuck out his hand for Harry to shake, but Harry didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said coolly.

Draco felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly, offended. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”

Both Harry and Weasley stood up.

“Say that again,” Weasley said, his face as red as his hair.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us now, are you?” sneered Draco.

“Unless you get out now,” said Harry, with what Draco could tell was fake bravery.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Weasley — he leapt forward, but before he’d so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Weasley’s dirty rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle’s knuckle — Draco and Crabbe backed out of the compartment as Goyle swung the rat round and round, howling, and when it finally flew off and hit the window, they all left the compartment at once.

~~~

The double doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall led the first years between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table, gathering them in front of the raised platform where the teachers sat. Lilian whistled at Alice. Professor McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on a four-legged stool. Ursula, like everyone but the bemused first years, stared at the Sorting Hat, waiting for it to burst into song.

_ “Oh, you may not think I’m pretty, _

_ But don’t judge on what you see, _

_ I’ll eat myself if you can find _

_ A smarter hat than me. _

_ You can keep your bowlers black, _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_ For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_ And I can cap them all. _

_ There’s nothing hidden in your head _

_ The Sorting Hat can’t see, _

_ So try me on and I will tell you _

_ Where you ought to be. _

_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_ Their daring nerve and chivalry _

_ Set Gryffindors apart. _

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal, _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_ And unafraid of toil. _

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_ If you’ve a ready mind, _

_ Where those of wit and learning _

_ Will always find their kind. _

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin, _

_ You’ll find your real friends, _

_ These cunning folk use any means _

_ To achieve their ends. _

_ So put me on! Don’t be afraid! _

_ And don’t get in a flap! _

_ You’re in safe hands (though I have none) _

_ For I’m a Thinking Cap!” _

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Some of the first years looked relieved but others were too nervous for the Sorting Hat to make a difference. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause —

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The Hufflepuff table clapped and cheered as Hannah went to sit down. The Fat Friar waved merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

Several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!” went to Ravenclaw too, and “Brown, Lavender!” became the first new Gryffindor. The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers and Ursula could see Fred and George catcalling.

“Bulstrode, Millicent!” became the first new Slytherin and Ursula clapped and whistled as she sat down at the end of the table.

“Cole, Rosalie!” went to Hufflepuff and “Corner, Michael!” went to Ravenclaw, before “Crabbe, Vincent!” joined Millicent in Slytherin. There was no surprise there. Then Professor McGonagall called, “Fenharrow, Alice!”

Lilian tensed as her sister trotted up to the stool and jammed the Sorting Hat on her head. Thirty seconds ticked by, and then —

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Just like dad,” said Lilian softly with a smile, as her sister was greeted by her fellow Ravenclaws.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” was sorted quickly into Hufflepuff, but “Finnigan, Seamus!” sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

The hat barely touched “Goldstein, Anthony!”’s head before sorting him into Ravenclaw and the same thing happened with “Goyle, Gregory!”. In quick succession “Graham, Elias!” went to Hufflepuff, “Granger, Hermione!” went to Gryffindor, and “Greengrass, Daphne!” joined Slytherin. Ursula smiled at her as she sat beside Millicent Bulstrode.

“Lewis, Flora!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “Macmillan, Ernest!” who was put immediately into Hufflepuff.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Draco swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat barely touched his head when it shouted, “SLYTHERIN!”

Draco joined Vincent and Gregory after getting a high five from Ursula as “Matthews, Felix!” went to Ravenclaw.

“Mcdonald, Oliver!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

“Moon, Lily!”

Just like Dennis, Lily had dark red hair and lots of freckles, and just like Dennis she was sorted into Ravenclaw, followed quickly by “Moore, Sabrina!”. “Nash, Elizabeth!” was sorted after a minute or so into Hufflepuff before “Nott, Theodore!” and “O’Hara, Cillian!” were sorted into Slytherin in quick succession. “O’Malley, Ryan!” followed Elizabeth and “Orpington, Belinda!” was soon seated next to Cillian.

There weren’t many people left now. “Parkinson, Pansy!” was sorted into Slytherin and a pair of twin girls “Patil, Padma!” and “Patil, Parvati!” went to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively. Then Professor McGonagall called, “Potter, Harry!”

Whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. Many students leaned forward, craning their necks to get a better look at him.

“Potter, did she say?”

“ _ The _ Harry Potter?”

The hat dropped over his eyes and the whispers quieting, everyone waiting to hear where the Boy Who Lived would be sorted. It took twenty seconds… thirty… a moment more —

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table exploded into cheers, many students rising to their feet as Harry joined them on shaky legs. Percy Weasley stood up and shook Harry’s hand, while Fred and George yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!”

There were less than a dozen people left now. “Saunders, Ruth!” went to Gryffindor while “Rutherford, Daniel!” went to Ravenclaw. “Thomas, Dean!” and “Thompson, Joanna!” were both sorted into Gryffindor and “Turpin, Lisa!” joined Hufflepuff.

“Urquhart, Helena!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Weasley, Ron!”

Ron was pale green at this point as he stumbled up to the stool. The hat dropped over his eyes. Barely a second passed, before —

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table clapped loudly as Ron collapsed into the seat next to Harry.

There were only two boys left now.

“Willis, Jacob!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

At last, as “Zabini, Blaise!” was made a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

“Well that was a sorting for the books,” said Adrian. “Some surprises, some predicted.”

“I have a feeling this year will be more interesting than the last,” said Ursula, as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.


	19. Tryouts

The next day, Ursula woke to Gemma’s irritated voice, complaining about how they had no time to get ready since classes started today.

“What are you talking about?” muttered Ursula. Gemma huffed.

“It’s about settling into a  _ routine _ ,” she said. “Otherwise my sleep schedule is off and I don’t have enough time to study!”

“Whatever you say,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes. She yawned and got out of bed. “You’re taking Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, right?”

The question relaxed Gemma ever so slightly.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll wait for you to head up for breakfast, but you’d better hurry up.”

Once Ursula was ready, she grabbed her bag — crammed full of all her textbooks, as there was no telling which she might need — and followed Gemma out the door.

“How was your holiday?” asked Ursula as they climbed the winding stairs. “You went to France, correct?”

Gemma nodded.

“It was lovely,” she said. “We spent lots of time at the beach and mother and I went shopping.”

The Great Hall was half full when they entered, and Ursula sat down next to Cassius, who had fallen asleep.

“Cassius,” she said, prodding his shoulder. “Cassius!”

His head shot up from the table.

“Wha…?” he asked groggily, looking around. “I wasn’t asleep!”

“Whatever you say, Sleeping Beauty,” said Ursula. Gemma giggled.

“I didn’t sleep well,” grumbled Cassius, pulling a bowl of oatmeal towards him. Alexander, his roommate, shot him a glare from across the table.

“Archibald always croaks on the first night,” said Alexander stiffly. Archibald was the name of his toad.

“Well you better pray he doesn’t do it tonight,” said Cassius. “Wish we learned Silencing Charms now instead of in fifth year.”

Adrian and Jacob soon joined them, followed by Lilian and Vanessa, and soon Daria, Sophie, Edward, and Philip were there as well. At the end of breakfast, Professor Snape handed out their schedules.

“A free period now, excellent,” said Ursula, scanning hers. “I can put my extra books away. And then… Astronomy, wonderful… ooh, Care of Magical Creatures… History of Magic… Ancient Runes and a free period before dinner!”

She compared hers to Vanessa, who didn’t have Ancient Runes and had Divination in the free period before dinner.

“Does everyone have a free period now?” asked Philip.

“Not me,” said Lilian. “I have Muggle Studies.”

“You’re actually taking that class?” said Vanessa, amazed.

“Yes,” said Lilian with a huff.

“Do you want me to take your extra books back to your dorm?” asked Ursula. “I’m going back anyway since I don’t have a class.”

“Would you?” said Lilian, relieved. “That would be great.”

She pulled seven total books from her bag and stacked them on the table.

“Thanks again,” she said, before leaving the Great Hall.

“Let me help you with those,” said Adrian, taking half of them from Ursula.

“Always such a gentleman,” she teased.

“Aren’t I just?” he said.

After their free period they had a daytime Astronomy class, where Professor Sinistra explained the rotations of the planets. Then it was time for Care of Magical Creatures, the class Ursula was most looking forward to.

Care of Magical Creatures was taught both inside — in a large, empty classroom for certain lessons and cold weather — and outside, for lessons such as today’s. A bunch of picnic tables sat in a rough semicircle around a paddock on the edge of the forbidden forest. Eight of the twelve Slytherins headed outside. A large fire burned in the center of the clearing, and Professor Kettleburn was busy tending it.

“Gather round, gather round!” he called, waving them forward. “Set your bags down! Come on then.”

As they got closer, they saw that the fire was full of salamanders, who scampered up and down the logs in the fire, the flames dancing across their skin. Arguably more interesting was Professor Kettleburn himself.Eccentrically dressed and with a mane of grey hair and a matching mustache, he had a prosthetic leg, a peg stuffed into an old shoe below the knee of his right leg, a prosthetic arm with a strange claw-like hand on the end, and an eye patch covering his left eye.

“Here we have a bunch of Fire Dwelling Salamanders,” said Professor Kettleburn, prodding the fire with his wand. “Can anyone tell me the lifespan of a salamander?”

Ursula’s hand shot up.

“Ms…”

“Black, sir,” she said. He nodded at her to go ahead. “A Fire Dwelling Salamander lives as long as the flames they were born in, known as salamander fires.”

“Very good. Ten points to Slytherin!” said Professor Kettleburn. “A salamander may live outside of a fire if fed pepper, though only for a limited amount of time. Tell me, Ms. Black, how long can a salamander out of fire live for?”

“Up to six hours,” she answered promptly.

“Take another ten points!” he said. “Now…”

They spent the rest of the class collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing as Professor Kettleburn enthusiastically shared facts about the salamanders. At one point, while attempting to pick up one of the salamanders, his prosthetic hand caught on fire but he simply blew on the fire until it went out. Judging by the scorch marks on his fake arm, this wasn’t the first time.

For Ursula, the class had lived up to her expectations, and she walked back to the castle for lunch with a spring in her step. Lilian, Cassius, and Adrian had all moderately enjoyed it, but she could tell Gemma was displeased from her pursed lips and folded arms, though she didn’t say anything.

After lunch they had History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, and then two thirds of the Slytherins headed to Ancient Runes. The classroom was cramped, with the desks close together and several large chalkboards. A number of the seats were already filled when they arrived, so Gemma sat up front with a Ravenclaw named Patricia Stimpson while Ursula sat in the third row beside Blossom. Lilian squeezed in beside her.

“Good afternoon everyone,” said their professor, a short witch with thick spectacles. “I am Professor Babbling. Please, everyone, take out your books.”

They all pulled out their copies of  _ Spellman’s Syllabary _ , a thick hardcover book of translations.

“We shall begin by learning the numbers and the animals that they represent,” said Professor Babbling. She tapped her wand on the chalkboard and ten chalk drawings sprang up instantly. “The Demiguise. A creature that possesses the power of invisibility. This invisibility represents the number zero. Write this down.”

Quickly Ursula pulled out a piece of parchment and her crow feather quill and jotted it down. Professor Babbling went through numbers one through nine, and then explained how her classes worked, going into great detail about rune translations.

When the bell rang, Ursula was done for the day, but Vanessa and a number of the others still had Divination to attend. She and Lilian walked back to the common room swapping details about their day excitedly.

“Hello Draco,” said Ursula, sitting down across from him on one of the leather sofas. “How was your first day?”

“Fine,” he sniffed. “I had History of Magic, double Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. I enjoyed Charms the most, and Defense Against the Dark Arts would be so much better if Quirrell wasn’t a joke.”

Ursula hmmed and said nothing about Professor Quirrell. He seemed a stuttering mess, but she had yet to endure his class so she couldn’t pass judgement on him at the moment.

“What do you have tomorrow?”

“Double Potions,” said Draco, brightening. “Unfortunately with the Gryffindors, but of course father knows Professor Snape, so I expect it’ll go well. Oh, and double Transfiguration in the afternoon. How was your day?”

“Excellent, actually,” said Ursula. “Care of Magical Creatures was particularly good. How are your classmates? Have you made any new friends?”

“Erm, there’s Blaise Zabini,” said Draco slowly.

“What about the last Slytherin boy?” said Ursula. “What was his name?”

“Cillian,” said Draco unenthusiastically. “Cillian O’Hara. I’ll try making friends with him if you insist, but he seems like a waste of time to me.”

Ursula looked across the common room, where the Irish boy had just drawn a loud laugh from Blaise, as well as a couple of second year boys. He seemed nice enough, and it would be good for Draco to have more friends.

“You never know,” she said, patting Draco on the shoulder. “How about you give him a try?”

Draco nodded and she left, going off to sit with Lilian. The next morning, after Herbology, Ursula had Arithmancy for the first time. This was another subject she was looking forward to. She sat down between Gemma and Vanessa and as soon as the bell rang, in came the professor.

Professor Vector was a thin witch with straight black hair and a strict demeanor, dressed in red robes and a matching witch’s hat. She instructed them to pull out their copies of  _ Numerology and Grammatica _ and be prepared to take notes. Take notes they did, as she launched into a lecture over the basics of the class and assigned them ten inches over the magical properties of numbers.

After a free period — she didn’t have Divination — and lunch, Ursula and the rest of the Slytherins went to Charms, where Professor Flitwick was as cheery as ever. After Charms they were to have their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and would finally get to see what Professor Quirrell was like.

“Excuse me?”

Ursula paused at the end of the corridor that led to Defense Against the Dark Arts. She turned to see two confused first years — Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley brother, Ron.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell us how to get to Charms?” asked Harry nervously.

“We’re a bit lost,” added Ron.

“Of course,” said Ursula. She pointed back down the way she had come. “You’re on the right floor, at least. Head that way — you might have to use the stairs to go down a floor and then come back up — and there at the end is a corridor, see? Turn left into it and Charms is about halfway down. Good luck.”

“Thank you!” they chorused, hurrying off. Ursula followed her friends into Defense Against the Dark Arts. As expected, Professor Quirrell’s lesson turned out to be a joke, and his room smelled unfortunately of garlic.

~~~

“She was nice,” said Harry, as he and Ron nearly ran to Charms. He found that the only thing he liked about Malfoy was his cousin.

“Fred and George said she was nice for a Slytherin,” agreed Ron. “Oh good, we made it.”

They just managed to enter the Charms classroom before the bell rang and quickly took their seats. The teacher, Professor Flitwick, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He took roll, and when he reached Harry’s name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Harry was enjoying classes at Hogwarts so far, though each was vastly different. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

Herbology, which had been his very first class, was taught by a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, who taught them how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and told them what they were used for. After that they had had double Transfiguration, and Harry had been quite right to think Professor McGonagall wasn’t someone to cross.

Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Professor Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start.

The Potions lesson they had had that morning turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to Harry so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he’d been wrong. Snape didn’t dislike Harry — he hated him.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape started the class by taking the roll call and he paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.”

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Harry.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything.”

He ignored Hermione’s hand.

“Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? _

Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus’s eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

“Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. “You — Potter — why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

“Don’t push it,” he muttered, “I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty.”

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry’s mind was racing and his spirits were low. He’d lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week — why did Snape hate him so much?

“Cheer up,” said Ron, “Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George.”

Thankfully after such a terrible start to the day they had a free period, and then a study hall after lunch. Harry and Ron had tried to follow their classmates to Charms, but had unfortunately gotten last. Harry, still upset after the events of the morning, was starting to despair, until he spotted a somewhat familiar face.

It was Ursula Black, chatting to a couple of other Slytherins as they all headed to class. Harry hadn’t met her, but if Hagrid said she was okay — let’s face it, he had no other choice.

“Excuse me?” he piped up, hurrying forward.

Ursula stopped, looking around for the source of the question. Her friends continued without her but she took two steps towards him and Ron.

“Yes?” she said.

“Can you tell us how to get to Charms?” asked Harry before he lost his nerve.

“We’re a bit lost,” added Ron.

“Of course,” said Ursula, filling them with relief. She pointed across the hall. “You’re on the right floor, at least. Head that way — you might have to use the stairs to go down a floor and then come back up — and there at the end is a corridor, see? Turn left into it and Charms is about halfway down. Good luck.”

“Thank you!” chorused Harry and Ron as they hurried to follow her instructions. That was where they were now, listening to Professor Flitwick as he explained what they would be learning this year. Harry liked Flitwick — he was leagues better than Snape, at least — but the class that he was really looking forward to came the next morning. He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, but he was less than thrilled to learn all the first years would be learning together.

“Typical,” said Harry darkly. “Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” said Ron reasonably. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.”

Malfay certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn’t the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he’d spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who’d listen about the time he’d almost hit a hang glider on Charlie’s old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn’t see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean’s poster of the West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she’d had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn’t learn by heart out of a book — not that she hadn’t tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she’d gotten out of a library book called  _ Quidditch Through the Ages _ . Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione’s lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and the other first years hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

Forty some broomsticks were lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Harry’s broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger’s had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville’s hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville’s voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —”

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle — twelve feet — twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and —

WHAM — a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

“Broken wrist,” Harry heard her mutter. “Come on, boy — it’s all right, up you get.”

She turned to the rest of the class.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

The other Slytherins joined in.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped Parvati Patil.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. “Never thought you’d like fat little crybabies, Parvati.”

“Look!” said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

“Give that here, Malfoy,” said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?”

“Give it here!” Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn’t been lying, he could fly well.

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, “Come and get it, Potter!”

Harry grabbed his broom.

“No!” shouted Hermione Granger. “Madam Hooch told us not to move — you’ll get us all into trouble.”

Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him — and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he’d found something he could do without being taught — this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

“Give it here,” Harry called, “or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

“Oh, yeah?” said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfay like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy,” Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

“Catch it if you can, then!” he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down — next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball — wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching — he stretched out his hand — a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

“HARRY POTTER!”

His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

“Never — in all my time at Hogwarts —” Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “— how dare you — might have broken your neck —”

“It wasn’t his fault, Professor —”

“Be quiet, Miss Patil —”

“But Malfoy —”

“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.”

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards, while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid’s bag.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?”

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick’s class looking confused.

“Follow me, you two,” said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

“In here.”

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

“Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

“Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood — I’ve found you a Seeker.”

Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

“Are you serious, Professor?”

“Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply. “The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”

Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

“He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.”

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

“Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly.

“Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.

“He’s just the build for a Seeker, too,” said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. “Light — speedy — we’ll have to get him a decent broom, Professor — a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I’d say.”

“I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can’t bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn’t look Severus Snape in the face for weeks…”

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

“I want to hear you’re training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.”

Then she suddenly smiled.

“Your father would have been proud,” she said. “He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.”

“You’re joking.”

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he’d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he’d forgotten all about it.

“Seeker?” he said. “But first years never — you must be the youngest house player —”

“— in about a century, said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. “Wood told me.”

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

~~~

“I heard about what happened in Flying today,” said Ursula, falling into step beside Draco after dinner, as they headed back to the Slytherin common room. “Why did you go over and talk to Harry at dinner?”

“He was challenging me,” said Draco angrily.

“Really?”

Her cool tone forced him to take several deep breaths.

“Because  _ you  _ walked over there. What did you say to him?”

“I challenged him to a duel,” said Draco finally, in a lofty voice. “Tonight, at midnight.”

“You did  _ what _ ?” asked Ursula faintly. “I’m sorry Draco, you know I love you, but that was a very foolish thing to do. Firstly, neither of you knows any actual magic yet and secondly, you’ll get in trouble if you’re caught wandering the castle at night,  _ and you will get caught _ . You can’t go.”

“Fine,” grumbled Draco. “But that Saint Potter…”

Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Is there any particular reason you’re against him?”

Draco ignored her.

“I won’t go, but…” He suddenly stopped, causing the students around him to complain as they pushed around him. “Do you know where Filch is?”

“It’s after dinner, so probably in his office unless he’s already started patrolling the corridors,” said Ursula,” which is unlikely, given that it’s not yet after hours. Let me guess, you’re going to tip him off to get Harry into trouble?”

His silence answered the question and she sighed.

“Be sensible — or at least, more sensible — in the future,” she said. “And don’t challenge anyone else to a duel!”

The next morning, Draco couldn’t believe that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts, but he took Ursula’s advice to heart and didn’t complain about it. He didn’t complain about it too much, that is. Ursula didn’t really care, but privately she felt glad that Draco’s efforts hadn’t paid off. Perhaps it would teach him a lesson.

Thursday and Friday passed uneventfully after that, and on Saturday Ursula and Cassius joined a handful of other students heading out to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the Slytherin tryouts. Adrian had been so nervous that morning that he’d only had a piece of toast and a piece of bacon Ursula forced upon him. The other third years wished him luck, and many of them promised to come watch after breakfast.

By the time Marcus Flint, the captain, blew his whistle to gather the prospective players together, Lilian and Vanessa had joined Ursula and Cassius in the stands, as had Philip and Alexander.

There were a number of open spots on the team this year: along with a chaser, both beater spots were open as Wilkes and Bulstrode had graduated the previous year, and they needed a new seeker, preferably one who was better than Reginald Fawley. The reserve spots were up for grabs as well, for a chaser, a keeper, and a seeker. The Slytherins didn’t keep a reserve beater. Out of the eight chasers, four seekers, and three keepers, Ursula noticed, only a single chaser and one seeker were girls.

Only three students were trying out for the reserve keeper position, and Flint had all eight prospective chasers take turns attempting to score. After only twenty minutes or so, Malcolm Greengrass was declared the reserve keeper and Flint moved on to the beaters. He had them practice accuracy and distance by aiming for the chasers and, in turn, the four possible seekers, which let him see how well the other two positions dodged as well.

Ursula whistled and clapped as Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole were selected as the new beaters. Peregrine had always been nice, and Lucian made for better company than his older brother Magnus, the previous captain, who had a habit of boasting whenever he could. They joined Francis Orpington, Edwin Yaxley, and Malcolm Greengrass — the other chaser, the keeper, and the reserve keeper respectively — in the stands to watch the chasers be chosen.

This was the moment they had been waiting for. The third year Slytherins all clapped and cheered as loud as they could for Adrian, even Vanessa, whose brother was his main competition.

Flint had each of the chasers take turns flying, passing the ball, and scoring, looking for speed, dexterity, and accuracy. After each exercise he eliminated one or two candidates, until he had whittled them down to just three: Adrian, William Shafiq, and a fifth year named Gregory Shaw. Both William and Gregory were taller and broader than Adrian, but he had the advantage of speed.

After eliminating Gregory for dropping the Quaffle and then failing to catch it, Flint brought back the rest of the team.

“Try and score,” he said to Adrian and William. “Don’t get hit by a bludger.” Then he blew his whistle.

Adrian and William mounted their broomsticks and soared around the pitch as the beaters hit bludgers towards them. Adrian caught the Quaffle when Flint tossed it into the air and went zooming towards the goal posts.

“Come on Adrian!” shouted Ursula.

“You can do it!” yelled Cassius.

Adrian swerved, dodging a bludger, and chucked the ball through the left hoop, successfully making it past Edwin Yaxley. His friends cheered. His brother Lachlan, a sixth year and — unfortunately — William’s roommate, clapped for him.

William scored next, then again. He went for a third shot but Malcolm deflected it and Adrian scored. He threw the Quaffle at the middle hoop —

“Damn,” said Cassius as Adrian missed.

William scored once more before sustaining a bludger to the shoulder. He dropped the Quaffle and Adrian caught it, racing up and shooting towards the goal — he swerved left and threw it right — Malcolm went left —

“Yeah!” shouted Cassius, jumping up in his seat as the ball sailed through the right hoop. Ursula whistled and caught Adrian’s eye as he zoomed past, the Quaffle in hand again. If he could just make one more goal —

“Ooh!” groaned the crowd as a bludger caught Adrian square in the stomach, nearly knocking him off his broom. William laughed as he caught the Quaffle and prepared to make a final goal. If he made it, he would be the new chaser and Adrian would be the reserve.

“Come on, come on, come on,” muttered Ursula, watching William nearing the scoring area. “You can do it, Adrian!”

Having recovered from the hit, Adrian gripped his broom tight and sped across the pitch. He had had the advantage of speed this whole time. William raised his arm to throw the Quaffle — Adrian made a wide arc towards the goal posts — the Quaffle soared through the air —

“Yeah!” shouted the third years as Adrian intercepted the throwing, catching the Quaffle. He wheeled about and tossed it at the hoops himself and it fell straight through the middle hoop. Ursula, Cassius, and Lilian jumped out of their seats to cheer for him as Marcus Flint blew his whistle and all the players landed.

“Pucey, you’re the new chaser,” they heard him say, “Shafiq, you’re the reserve.”

They could hear William protesting angrily, but Flint cut him off, saying, “The position’s his. He flew better than you.”

William was fuming as he walked off the pitch, not even bothering to watch the seekers tryout. Terence Higgs became the seeker in six and a half minutes — he caught the Snitch — and Augustus Blishwick became the reserve.

Cassius and Ursula hurried down from the stands to congratulate Adrian once tryouts were over, the rest of the third years following behind.

“You did great!” said Ursula, giving Adrian a hug. “Well done!”

“Did you see Shafiq?” said Adrian, beaming. “He was furious!”

“You beat him fair and square,” said Cassius. “You did it!”

“I did it,” repeated Adrian, nodding. “I’m on the team!”


	20. Hogsmeade

A few weeks later, and a notice appeared on the bulletin board, announcing the first Hogsmeade trip of the year on the Saturday before Halloween. Classes had been going well for Ursula and Adrian had Quidditch practices three nights a week, all in preparation for their match against Gryffindor which was now only two weeks away. The weather had grown chillier — the Slytherins were not excited for winter in the dungeons — and the leaves on the trees were changing color.

“Does everyone have their permission form turned in to Professor Snape?” said Gemma in a bossy voice. The other third years made noises of agreement. They were all excited about the trip.

The morning of, nearly every third through seventh year lined up in the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors. He checked off their names on a long list, peering suspiciously into every face. Vanessa was going with Daria and Sophie, so Ursula, Lilian, and Gemma strolled out of the castle and across the front lawn together, chatting excitedly about what they would do when they arrived.

It was a ten minute walk through the gates of Hogwarts and up the road towards Hogsmeade Station, but the weather was pleasant and they were surrounded by other students. They walked down the hill and around the Shrieking Shack, giving the area a wide berth out of caution.

“Wow,” said Lilian when they arrived at the village.

Hogsmeade was picturesque, with long rows of neat little cottages and shops along the High Street. Hogsmeade Station lay at one end, a little ways away from the shops and whatnot, and Ursula knew the Shrieking Shack stood just outside of the village.

“Where shall we go first?” asked Ursula.

“Can we start at Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop?” said Gemma. “It won’t take long, but I need a new quill.”

The other two shrugged so they headed into the shop, which displayed a variety of quills in the window and wasn’t nearly as crowded as some of the other shops. While Gemma purchased a handsome eagle feather quill, Lilian perused the shelves looking for some nice stationary and Ursula examined a bottle of rainbow ink before deciding it wasn’t worth it.

The next place they went was a dusty bookshop called Tomes and Scrolls, where Ursula spent some time browsing, getting absorbed in each book she picked up.

“This looks interesting,” said Lilian, handing her a book on Transfiguration. “I know it’s your favorite subject.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula, flipping open the cover. “Try this. It’s a book about Muggle technology.”

“Cool!” said Lilian, as they headed to the counter with their purchases.

A quick stroll down the street brought them to Zonko’s Joke Shop, which was absolutely packed with Hogwarts students. Gemma squeezed through the door first, followed by the other two.

Exciting, colorful products lined the shelves, including fireworks, Dungbombs, Hiccough Sweets, and Nose-Biting Teacups. Ursula grabbed a bar of Frog Spawn Soap when Gemma wasn’t looking. She edged around the other students to look at a display of sugar quills, accidentally bumping into a fourth year as she did.

“Sorry!” she squeaked.

“Hey Ursula,” said Lucian Bole as he turned around. “It’s okay, no harm done.” He gave her a warm smile. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, good,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You did well at tryouts.”

“You saw that?” His smile stretched wider. “I’m glad I made the team.” Someone called his name and he looked around. “I’ve got to go. Cheer for me at the game, yeah?”

“I will,” she said with a smile, and then he was gone.

Ursula turned back to the display of sugar quills and bought a box of half a dozen. Along with her Frog Spawn Soap and a pack of Hiccough Sweets, she carried them up to the register and got in line behind the Weasley twins, who had a large pile of stuff on the counter.

“Sorry boys,” said the cashier. “You’re eight Sickles short.”

“I can pay for that,” piped up Ursula. Fred and George looked back at her.

“You don’t have to,” said Fred quickly.

“Yeah, we couldn’t ask you —” began George, but she waved him off.

“Nonsense,” she said, handing over eight Sickles. “Just don’t use any of it on me this time.”

Fred and George were now wearing matching grins.

“Deal!” they said happily.

“Thanks Black,” said Fred.

“Yeah, we owe you one,” said George.

“Don’t worry about it, boys,” said Ursula. She stepped up to the counter and bought her own stuff before going to wait outside for Lilian and Gemma.

They popped into Spintwitches Sporting Needs, despite not needing any Quidditch gear, to say hello to Adrian and Cassius, who were standing over a rack of gloves debating which ones Adrian should get.

“Go for these ones,” said Ursula, tossing a pair at him. “They’re the best for gripping your broom, and those little hairs sticking out of the other brand will itch your fingers.”

“Thanks,” said Adrian. “Isn’t Hogsmeade wonderful?”

The girls nodded in agreement.

“I see you’ve been to Honeydukes already,” said Lilian, gesturing to the bulging bag of sweets both boys had. “How was it?”

Cassius’s eyes grew large.

“It was amazing,” he said excitedly. “I could barely choose what to get!”

“We’re headed there now,” said Ursula. “See you back at Hogwarts.”

They waved goodbye to Adrian and Cassius and headed towards Honeydukes, which was even more packed than Zonko’s had been. The bell on the door rang as they entered, nearly inaudible above the chatter of the students, and immediately they could smell the sugar, hitting them like a wave. It was almost too much to take in.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls; along yet another wall were ‘Special Effects’ — sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (‘breathe fire for your friends!’), Ice Mice (‘hear your teeth chatter and squeak!’), peppermint creams shaped like toads (‘hop realistically in the stomach!’), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

Knowing she would buy too much otherwise, Ursula decided to just get a little of everything she wanted. She headed first for the chocolate section, selecting several bars of different flavors — milk chocolate, dark chocolate, salted caramel. Lilian selected a bar of white chocolate and a pack of four cauldron cakes. All three girls chose two or three chocolate frogs, and then Gemma and Ursula both got chocoballs — large chocolate sweets filled with strawberry mousse and clotted cream.

After scooping some Fizzing Whizbees into a bag, Ursula chose a pack of jelly slugs. She spotted Blossom standing nearby, studying the ice mice and pepper imps.

“Hi,” she said, coming up beside her friend and taking down small bags of both sweets.

“Hi!” said Blossom. “Hogsmeade is so cool! Have you tried pepper imps? What are they like?”

“They’re good,” said Ursula. “They’re like… peppermint sweets that allow you to breathe fire and smoke at the ears.”

“Cool!” said Blossom, and she grabbed a small bag off the shelf for herself. “See you later!”

After visiting the display case to look at toffee and fudge, Ursula joined Gemma beside the pink coconut ice, which came in little jars tied with pink ribbon.

“Hmm,” said Gemma, studying the sweet. “I can’t decide if I should get it.”

“Do you like it?” asked Ursula. Gemma nodded. “Then go for it. You don’t have to get a lot.” She pointed to the smallest jar, which contained only a few squares.

Ursula stopped one more time at a barrel of salt water taffy — she had developed quite a taste for it thanks to her dad — before getting a box of Toothflossing Stringmints and heading up to the counter to pay. Her purchases now bulging in a bag like Adrian and Cassius had, she once again stepped outside to join Gemma as they waited for Lilian to finish.

“How about we go to the Three Broomsticks?” suggested Ursula when Lilian emerged. She readily agreed and they strolled down High Street towards the pub.

The Three Broomsticks was the largest building in Hogsmeade, owing to its number of customers, many of whom were not Hogwarts students. Ursula, Lilian, and Gemma ordered three Butterbeers and sat down in the back.

“I heard Gryffindor has really been practising for the match,” said Gemma. “They have a lot of confidence in their new seeker.” Indeed, it was a poorly kept secret that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was the new Gryffindor seeker.

“Terence can win,” said Lilian confidently, taking a large gulp of her drink.

“He’s certainly better than Fawley was,” agreed Ursula. “And with our new beaters and Adrian, of course, the Slytherin team will be even stronger than it was last year.”

“How is Muggle Studies going?” asked Gemma to Lilian. “Unless I’m mistaken, you are the only Slytheirn in our year taking it.”

“I actually really like it,” said Lilian, managing to keep the snark out of her voice. “Professor Burbage is an excellent teacher and it’s fascinating to learn about all the things Muggles have to use since they don’t have magic.”

“How are you like Care of Magical Creatures?” asked Ursula. “I don’t have to tell you that it’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s fun,” said Lilian. “But Professor Kettleburn kind of freaks me out. He’s very enthusiastic for a man who has lost two and a half limbs and one eye.” Ursula laughed.

“What about you, Gemma?” she asked.

Gemma made a face.

“Honestly? I don’t like it. The creatures he brings in are just too… weird,” she said.

“Why don’t you drop out?” suggested Ursula. “If you hate it so much. You don’t have to wait to get an OWL.”

“I don’t  _ hate  _ it, exactly,” said Gemma, sounding very much like she hated it. “And maybe I will.”

Once they had finished their butterbeers the girls headed back to Hogwarts, having little else to look at. This time when they passed the Shrieking Shack they stopped to take a look.

“It’s so creepy,” said Gemma with a shiver.

“It’s supposed to be the most haunted building in Britain,” said Lilian. “Apparently the villagers used to hear screams coming from inside, but no one’s heard anything in years.”

“Can I ask  _ why  _ everyone’s so afraid that it’s haunted?” said Ursula. “I mean, we have ghosts at Hogwarts, so Hogwarts is also haunted.”

“It’s because it’s scary!” said Gemma. “I heard even the ghosts won't enter it.”

“Hmm,” said Ursula. “It just seems like an old building to me. But you’re right, it is a little creepy. Let’s keep going.”

They continued up over the hill and back to Hogwarts, recounting the joy of the day to one another with much excitement as they headed down into the dungeons to their common room.

That night, as Ursula was finishing up an essay, a loud scream came from the bathroom where Gemma was taking a shower. Ursula chuckled. The Frog Spawn Soap had definitely been worth it.


	21. Quidditch

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they’d seen him make Neville’s toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry’s partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since the day Harry’s broomstick had arrived.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much more luck.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Harry heard Hermione snap. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”

“You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, “Wingardium Leviosa!”

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!”

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

“It’s no wonder no one can stand her,” he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, “she’s a nightmare, honestly.”

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears.

“I think she heard you.”

“So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.”

Hermione didn’t turn up for the next class and wasn’t seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls’ bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore’s chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, “Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know.”

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

~~~

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand to bring silence.

“Prefects,” he rumbled, “lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

“Why are we going back to our dorms?” squeaked Vanessa. “Quirrell said the troll was in the dungeons!”

There was much terror among the Slytherins as they followed the prefects downstairs, particularly among the younger years.

“Everyone, remain calm!” said Lewis Burke. He had to shout to be heard.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t send us down here if it wasn’t safe!” added Veronica Higgs. The other students weren’t convinced.

There was much shoving as they went through the tunnel to their common room — conduct normally unbecoming of Slytherins — and a sense of anxious relief filled them when they were safely inside. The Slytherins huddled together, all nervously discussing where the troll was and if they were safe here.

“But how did it get in?” whispered Daria.

“I don’t know,” said Cassius. “Aren’t trolls supposed to be really stupid?”

“Maybe Peeves let it in as a joke,” suggested Alexander.

“Well it’s not very funny,” said Gemma.

Thankfully, their worries could be ignored — if not quite put at ease — by the appearance of half a dozen long tables packed with food. Everyone grabbed a plate and loaded it up with dinner and dessert, moving to sit on the couches, back in their dorms, or even on the floor.

The noise in the common room grew louder as its inhabitants relaxed. Ursula and her friends sat by one of the windows, the occasional creature visible in the black water. No one truly relaxed, however, until a good half hour later, when Professor Snape entered the common room. The students went silent at once.

“The troll has been found and taken care of,” Professor Snape said, the irritation in his monotone voice matching the scowl on his face. Ursula didn’t know what had gotten his wand in a knot; perhaps he was annoyed that the troll had gotten in or he was in just as fowl a mood as normal.

With that short announcement, he swept out.

“But where was it?” wondered Lilian. “And how did the teachers catch it?”

~~~

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.

The story of the troll’s defeat spread quickly, though it was unclear how. The details changed from person to person but one thing remained the same: the troll was defeated by three first years, one of them the Boy Who Lived. The bigger news was about the upcoming quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin: Harry Potter was the new seeker.

The morning of the match, Ursula spent breakfast trying to coax Adrian to eat something.

“Eggs?” said Ursula. Adrian shook his head.

“How about cereal?” suggested Cassius.

“No,” replied Adrian.

“Sausage or bacon, then,” said Lilian, getting irritated by his continued refusal.

“Not interested,” said Adrian.

“Two slices of toast, with jam,” said Ursula in a tone that left no room for further argument. “I’m not letting you up from this bench until you eat it, even if you’re late for the game.”

Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, taking the toast reluctantly and smothering it with jam. He may have been unenthusiastic about eating it but by the time he was finished he looked alot more prepared for the match.

By eleven o’clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ursula walked Adrian to the locker room, reassuring him the whole way.

“You’re going to do great,” she said, stopping outside the door. “You’ve practised and you’re ready.”

“Aye, Black!”

It was Lucian, flanked by Peregrine and Terence. Lucian leaned against the doorway, having not yet put his green Quidditch robes on.

“Come to wish us luck?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Do you need luck?” countered Ursula, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” said Lucian, “but it wouldn’t hurt to have some.”

“Ah,” she replied, smiling. “Good luck then.”

Then she turned on her heel and sauntered away. She joined her friends high up in the stands, and it wasn’t long before the teams walked out onto the field, accompanied by an explosion of cheers from the students.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

“Now, I want a nice, fair game, from all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. “Mount your brooms, please.”

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too —”

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Ursula laughed. Lee had taken over from Nymphadora as commentator, and this being his first match he was closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes —”

A cheer rose from the Slytherins as Flint neared the goalposts.

“— Flint flying like an eagle up there — he’s going to sc— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood —”

The cheer turned into a groan as Wood blocked the shot and the Quaffle was taken by one of Gryffindor’s chasers.

“Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts —”

“Come on Adrian,” muttered Ursula.

“— oh, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she’s really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Yaxley dives — misses — GRYFFINDOR SCORES!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. Orpington caught the Quaffle and passed it to Flint, who in turn passed it to Adrian. Cassius led the cheer as Adrian sped towards Wood.

“Slytherin in possession,” Lee Jordan was saying, “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

“No!” shouted Cassius.

“Not a great way to prove yourself in your first game,” agreed Vanessa.

“He can do it!” said Lilian. “But look, Terence has seen the Snitch!”

Indeed he had. Terence dove after the streak of gold, neck and neck with Harry Potter as they hurted toward the Snitch. All of the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Terence, and they saw him put on an extra spurt of speed, inching ahead of Terence —

WHAM!

A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Flint had blocked Harry, clearly on purpose, even to the Slytherins, and Harry’s broom spun off course with its rider holding on for dear life.

“Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

“Really?” said Jacob. “Potter isn’t hurt.”

“It’s still a foul,” said Ursula. Alicia Spinnet prepared to take the penalty shot.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

“So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —”

“Jordan!” growled Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul —”

“Jordan, I’m warning you —”

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

Ursula and the others cheered as Adrian intercepted a pass and caught the Quaffle, flying back down the pitch with it.

“Slytherin in possession — Pucey passes to Flint, nicely done — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — Oh no…”

A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, but all of a sudden they, along with all the other students, noticed that Harry’s broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went. People began to point as his broom started to roll over and over, and then the whole crowd gasped.

Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

“What happened?” said Lilian.

“Is he jinxed?” suggested Philip.

“It would take powerful Dark Magic,” said Gemma.

“Can he hang on?” said Ursula.

Harry’s broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to keep his grip. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good — every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Something happened, Ursula didn’t know what, but Harry was suddenly able to clamber back onto his broom. He began speeding towards the ground, when all of a sudden they saw him clap his hand to his mouth.

“He’s going to be sick!” shouted Cassius.

Harry hit the field on all fours, coughed, and something gold fell into his hand.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

“He didn’t catch it, he nearly swallowed it,” Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn’t broken any rules and Lee was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

“You did well,” said Cassius, thumping Adrian on the back as he emerged from the locker room in his normal clothes.

“I dropped the Quaffle,” moaned Adrian.

“You also scored twice,” Ursula reminded him. “And your passes were great. I’d say your first game was a success, for you at least.”

“Thanks,” he said, still upset over the loss.

“Good job Terence,” said Ursula, as they passed Terence and Peregrine. “You almost had the Snitch. You too, Peregrine. You and Lucian both make excellent Beaters.”

“Thanks Ursula,” said Peregrine.

Cassius went with Adrian back to the common room, while Ursula headed to the library to meet Gemma and work on an essay for Professor Snape.

“Hey Black,” said Fred.

“Enjoying defeat?” added George.

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Good game, boys,” she said. “You’re like a pair of human Bludgers anyway.”

The Weasley twins grinned and puffed out their chests.

“Why thank you,” said Fred.

“What a compliment,” said George.

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Ursula, “I have an essay to finish.”

“It’s Saturday!” said Fred.

“Yeah, you don’t want to be stuck in the stuffy old library,” said George.

“We’re off to pull a prank.”

“Thanks again for helping us —”

“In fact, maybe you want to help us again —”

“Where might we find Marcus Flint?” finished George.

“I think he’s suffered enough from the loss,” she replied.

“C’mon Black, he almost killed Harry,” pleaded Fred.

“He deserves it,” said George.

“If you hurry, he should still be in the locker room,” said Ursula.

“Thanks Black!”

“You’re the best!”

They ran off, and Ursula continued on to the library, joining Gemma at the table she had claimed.

“There you are,” said Gemma.

“Should we go over the effects of the Wiggenweld potion?” said Ursula. “I think that would be a good place to start for this essay.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gemma replied. “So… to begin with, it is a healing potion to cure injuries.”

“It can also act as an antidote to the Draught of Living Death, right?” said Ursula. Gemma nodded. “I’m going to use that in my essay.”

“Good idea,” said Gemma.

An hour or so later, when they headed back downstairs to the Slytherin common room, Ursula felt satisfied with her essay, and even more satisfied when Marcus Flint came in smelling strongly of rotten eggs, even more furious than he had been when Slytherin lost the game.

“Dude, go take a shower,” said Lewis Burke, gagging and covering his mouth. The stench made Ursula’s eyes water. “Either here or in the prefects’ bathroom. Just please, go.”

Flint stalked over to his dorm, muttering and cursing the whole way about ‘those bloody Weasleys.’ Unfortunately, the stench lingered, and after an unbearable half hour Malcolm Greengrass was sent to fetch Professor Snape.

Flint wore a great scowl on his face at dinner, still followed by a lingering whiff of the putrid smell, and his bad mood continued for several days, but Ursula had to admit Fred and George had done well, and she did not hesitate to tell them so.

“Thanks Black,” said George.

“He deserved it, that’s for sure,” said Fred.

“When, exactly, will the smell go away?” said Ursula. The twins’ faces stretched into identical mischievous grins.

“Eventually,” they said, and that was all the answer they gave.


	22. Christmas Carols

“I have decided,” said Professor McGonagall on Wednesday afternoon, ten days after Slytherin’s defeat, “that instead of having you all write essays over transfiguring objects into animals, you should put the theory into practice. Your assignment is to pick one of the spells listed here on the board, study the theory behind it, and attempt to transfigure the object in the last class before the holidays.”

On the board behind her were six or so spells, ranging from birds to rabbits to fish to —  _ dragons _ . Ursula instantly knew which one she wanted to do.

“This assignment is to be completed in pairs, and your partner is the person sitting next to you. You will be given time in class to work, but the majority of your studies must be on your own time. Are there any questions?”

No one could think of any, so she put them to work. Ursula turned to Cedric, her partner, so they could discuss which spell to do.

“Is there any you’re particularly interested in?” he asked.

“How about Draconifers?” she suggested innocently.

“Sounds good to me,” Cedric replied, grinning at her.

They informed Professor McGonagall of their choice and got to work studying the theory behind it. It was a difficult spell, more so than ones they had learned so far, but Ursula was confident they could do it.

“Do you want to work on it tomorrow, after Arithmancy?” said Cedric when the bell rang. “In the library?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ursula said. She followed Lilian out the door and down the stairs to Potions.

“You’re so lucky,” said Vanessa as they descended deeper into the chilly dungeons.

“Why do you say that?”

“Everyone knows you and Cedric are top of the class in Transfiguration,” answered Vanessa. “I got stuck with Jasper.”

Jasper was a good friend of Cedric’s, but Transfiguration was, putting it mildly, not his best subject. It wasn’t Vanessa’s best either, but she wasn’t hopeless.

“What spell are you going to learn?” asked Lilian. “Gemma and I picked Avifors.”

“Lapifors Spell,” said Vanessa. “It seemed the easiest.”

“We’re doing Draconifers,” said Ursula. Lilian snorted.

“Of course you are,” she said.

They entered Potions, the coldest classroom in Hogwarts. Unfortunately, since it was only late November, it would get colder still.

“I don’t see why we can’t have a fire,” said Lilian, her nose pink. Professor Snape had them all working individually to create a Girding Potion, and many students ran the risk of lighting themselves on fire with how close they stood to their cauldrons. “What step are you on?”

“Step six,” answered Ursula. “Add one flying seahorse. Now I have to heat the potion until it turns turquoise.”

“How do you always do it so  _ fast _ ?” complained Lilian. “I’m on step four: heat until the potion turns pink.”

Ursula shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But look, yours is turning pink now.”

While Lilian slowly added toasted dragonfly thoraxes until her potion turned a flaming shade of orange, Ursula did the same to her now-turquoise potion, dropping them in one by one until the potion turned purple.

On her other side, Fred and George’s cauldrons were bubbling away and smoking heavily. Neither effects were in the instructions, and Ursula was getting nervous, but they assured her their potions wouldn’t — or, at least,  _ shouldn’t  _ — explode. Strangely, that did not make her any less nervous.

“Almost done,” said Ursula happily. She added three flying seahorses and began to heat her potion in the hopes of it turning green.

Lilian had just added her doxy eggs when Fred’s cauldron gave a great belch. Ursula just had time to dive under her desk, dragging Lilian with her, before purple smoke billowed from the cauldron and orange droplets splattered everywhere. The Girding Potion smelled quite foul if brewed properly, but the stench issuing from Fred’s cauldron put it to shame.

Professor Snape was just ushering them into the corridor so he could clean away the mess when George’s cauldron followed suit, dark blue bubbles spilling over and this time accompanied by yellow smoke.

“Sorry,” said Fred, although he did not look sorry at all. “I didn’t think it would explode.”

Ursula sighed.

“It’s fine,” she said, “but if any of it got in my cauldron, you’re in trouble. Why’d you do it, anyway?”

“To warm up the dungeons,” said George promptly. “Your friend said she was cold, and we quite agreed.”

Lilian laughed.

“Thanks, I suppose,” she said. “What about the smell?”

“That, ladies, was an added bonus,” said Fred.

The door to the classroom burst open, dispensing a cloud of smoke and the noxious fumes. Professor Snape looked furious.

“Leave a vial of what you have managed to make on my desk,” he snapped. “A week’s detention, Weasleys, and forty points from Gryffindor.”

They hurried back inside, eyes watering from the stench. The classroom was noticeably warmer, but it was in no way warm. Ursula took a flask of her potion — thankfully a pleasant shade of green — up to Professor Snape’s desk, then cleared away her stuff as fast as she could, scrambling to get out. While the Gryffindors hurried upstairs, the Slytherins followed a series of winding corridors until they reached their dorms.

“I’m going to shower before dinner,” said Ursula to Gemma.

“Alright,” she replied. “I’ll shower when you’re done. I can’t get that smell out of my nose unless I do.”

Thankfully, showering did rid them of the terrible smell, and by dinner the potions classroom had been cleaned, although Professor Snape’s ever-present frown was a bit angrier than usual.

The next day, Ursula had Astronomy, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy, three classes she enjoyed, and afterwards she was set to work on the Draconifors Spell with Cedric.

“I’ll meet you in the library, yeah?” she said to Cedric, who was busy chatting with some friends.

“Sure, I’ll just be a minute,” he replied.

Ursula gathered her things and headed to the library, choosing a secluded table between two bookcases. Cedric arrived just as she was practising the wand movement.

“It says here that the transfigured dragon is very small, around the size of a baby,” said Cedric. “I bet it has something to do with the size of the target.”

“So if you were to transfigure, say, a house into a dragon, it would probably be much larger,” said Ursula. “Though I’m sure there are other ways…”

“Other ways of what?”

“Other ways of getting a larger dragon. You could enlarge the target beforehand, enlarge the dragon after, or even change the spell,” said Ursula thoughtfully. “It can breathe fire already.”

“If you’re planning to create a life-sized dragon to terrorize Hogwarts, count me out,” said Cedric jokingly, causing Ursula to laugh. “Are you ready to try it?”

“I think so,” she said. She pulled her swan feather quill out of her bag and set it on the table. “ _ Draconifors _ !”

Nothing happened. She tried again, repeating the slashing wand movement. Still nothing.

“It’s alright,” said Cedric, who could tell she was getting irritated. “It’s just your first try.”

“Do you want to try?” she asked, her jaw clenched in annoyance. Cedric shrugged.

“ _ Draconifors _ !” he said, flicking his wand at the quill. Nothing happened.

“It’s more of a slashing movement than a flick,” said Ursula. “Like this.  _ Draconifors _ !”

A fiery orange light burst from her wand. The quill quivered, and then —

“You did it!” exclaimed Cedric.

In place of Ursula’s quill now sat a small, white dragon with black claws. It looked up at them and sneezed a small spark. Ursula scooped it up at once, petting its scaly head. It fit perfectly in her cupped hand.

“You’re so cute,” she cooed. The dragon looked up at her and nuzzled her hand. “Your turn,” she said to Cedric.

“ _ Draconifors _ .  _ Draconifors _ .  _ Draconifors _ !” The inkpot Cedric was trying to transfigure stubbornly remained an inkpot. On the fourth attempt, a burst of orange light came from his wand and the inkpot shuddered, but nothing happened.

“You’ve almost got it,” encouraged Ursula, her dragon — which she had nicknamed Cygnet — now perched on her shoulder.

“ _ Draconifors!” _

At last, Cedric’s inkpot turned into a little black dragon. Ursula set Cygnet on the table so they could play together, both smaller than a kitten.

“Well done,” said Ursula.

“Thanks,” Cedric replied. “They’re quite cute, aren’t they?”

Ursula quite agreed. For a moment they just sat and watched them play together. Both were so small that they couldn’t make much more than a candle sized flame, so Cedric and Ursula weren’t worried about them setting anything alight.

“So, are you ready for the match on Saturday?” asked Ursula. Hufflepuff was playing Ravenclaw, and Cedric was their seeker. He nodded.

“I think so,” he said. “Beating Ravenclaw would start the season off right for us, you know? Will you watch the game?”

“Of course. I’m going with Blossom,” said Ursula. “I’ll root for you.”

“Good.” Cedric’s smile stretched wider. Cygnet snorted, shooting a little ball of flame out, and Ursula clapped for him. Unfortunately, this was just as Madam Pince was passing.

“Fire!?” she screeched. “In the library!? Leave at once!”

Reluctantly, Ursula turned Cygnet back into a quill and stuffed it into her bag, following Cedric out of the library and towards the Great Hall for dinner.

“How’d it go?” asked Lilian, as she sat down next to Ursula.

“I did it,” she replied happily. “So did Cedric.”

“Well done! Gemma gave her inkpot a beak but neither of us managed the full bird.”

Ursula laughed.

“I’m sure you can do it,” she said. “Besides, you’ve got a month before you have to.”

~~~

On Saturday, Ursula joined Blossom in the stands on the Hufflepuff side, a scarf wrapped around her face to fight the bitter wind that stung their cheeks. It was the third week of November, and absolutely freezing.

“Come on Cedric!” shouted Blossom, as Cedric dove towards the ground, hopefully towards the Snitch. No such luck, unfortunately.

“Chester Davies scores!” shouted Lee. “Ravenclaw leads one hundred thirty to twenty!”

Ravenclaw was crushing Hufflepuff. Having knocked out a chaser, injured a beater, and broken a few of the keeper’s bones, Ravenclaw’s chasers scored goal after goal with minimal opposition. Ravenclaw’s keeper, fifth year Robert Hilliard, was far better than Hufflepuff’s even if theirs hadn’t been injured. It was up to Cedric to catch the Snitch if Hufflepuff had any hope of winning.

“Roger Davies scores! The score is one hundred fifty to twenty, and Hufflepuff will need a miracle to win this game! Davies passes to Davies — dodges a bludger — pass intercepted by Graham Turner — he flies towards Hilliard — he shoots — Hilliard blocks!”

A cheer rose from Ravenclaw’s side while a groan came from the Hufflepuff side. Ravenclaw’s chaser had taken to tailing Cedric as he searched for the Snitch, and more and more students were hoping one of them would catch it just so the game could be over and they could go back inside where it was warm.

“Liliana Carter of Ravenclaw has the Quaffle — neat pass to Roger Davies — back to Carter — she ducks a bludger — and she scores! One hundred ninety to thirty! Not even the Snitch can save Huffepuff now! Look! Diggory’s seen it!”

There was a great murmur in the crowd as Cedric shot straight up, his hand outstretched. The Ravenclaw seeker followed, but Cedric was much faster.

“Cedric Diggory really advancing on that Snitch now — this could be it — CEDRIC DIGGORY CATCHES THE SNITCH! The game is over! Ravenclaw wins one hundred ninety to one hundred eighty!”

“Darn it,” said Blossom, her shoulders slumping.

“It’s okay,” said Ursula, patting her on the back. “Cedric played really well.”

“Look on the bright side,” said Elizabeth Barrett, Hufflepuff and friend of Blossom’s. “We were about to lose by almost two hundred points.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Blossom, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

“In other good news,” added Ursula. “We can go back inside now.”

Blossom giggled.

“That is good news,” she said.

~~~

December rolled in, and the castle grew even colder. The dungeons were almost unbearable, and the walk to the Slytherin common room was icy and treacherous. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. Fred and George got in trouble for bewitching snowballs to hit Professor Quirrell in the back of the head and the few owls that managed to make it through the storm had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid. The lake froze solid, and Ursula, Lilian, and Blossom were all too eager to skate again.

“I guarantee that I’m no better than last time,” said Lilian as she laced up her skates.

“Then we had better watch out,” joked Ursula.

Lilian was right. She was still awful at it. But she had a jolly time trying and had worn two sweaters to pad her falls. Blossom and Ursula skated figure eights, in circles, and even backwards, and it often took both of them to get Lilian back to her feet after a fall.

The three girls spent several hours skating on the lake, and they had even inspired a few other students to give it a try. Their faces were chapped and their noses numb when at last they returned to the warmth of the castle. Lilian and Ursula hurried down to the Slytherin common room as quickly as they could, the latter nearly slipping on the slick stone steps.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” asked Ursula as they climbed back above ground for dinner. Lilian nodded.

“Yeah, my grandparents are coming up from —”

“ _ Nativitatis Cantis _ !” shouted two voices. Fred and George were standing on either side of the door that led to the dungeons, waiting to cast the incantation on unsuspecting Slytherins.

“What did you just do?” cried Lilian, but the words came out to the tune of ‘Jingle Bells’. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Spread some festive cheer,” answered Fred.

“Everything you say will be sung to the tune of a Christmas carol for the rest of the day,” explained George. Both twins were grinning like mad.

“Anything to add, Black?” asked Fred cheekily.

“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourselves,” sang Ursula, to the tune of ‘God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.’ She was annoyed, but impressed at the same time. “Is the spell your own?”

George puffed out his chest in pride.

“Yes it is,” he said. “Made it ourselves.”

“Now if you ladies will move out of the way —” began Fred.

“I spy more Slytherins who need to get into the spirit of the holidays,” finished George.

Lilian and Ursula entered the Great Hall and found that almost everyone in Slytherin had been harmed by the Weasleys. Either the students resolved to say as little as possible or they enjoyed it; Cassius in particular used the opportunity to sing ‘Angels We Have Heard On High’ at the top of his lungs, but Adrian absolutely refused to open his mouth. Cassius cheerfully informed them that his song was ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful.’

Many of the affected Slytherins were upset with the Weasley twins, who managed to disappear out of the Great Hall once dinner was over before they could be caught by any older students, but many others saw the prank as festive and altogether harmless. The best part was that Fred and George had also managed to use the spell on Professor Snape and — best of all — Professor Dumbledore. While Professor Snape refused to speak, Professor Dumbledore had a jolly time singing his usual speech, and Ursula thought he spoke longer than usual just to enjoy it.

One thing was sure: the holidays were almost here.

~~~

On their last day of class before the Christmas holidays, it was time for the third years to demonstrate to Professor McGonagall whether or not they had managed to learn the spell of their choice.

“Mr. Warrington, Mr. Pucey, why don’t we start with you,” said Professor McGonagall, inviting Cassius and Adrian up to the front of the room. “Which spell did you pick?”

“Piscifors, professor,” said Adrian. He pointed his wand at one of the candles Professor McGonagall had set out and said, “ _ Piscifors _ !”

The candle transformed into a small grey fish that flopped around on the table until Professor McGonagall turned it back into a candle.

“You next, Mr. Warrington,” she said. Like Adrian, Cassius had no trouble with the spell. The class applauded and they returned to their seats.

“Ms. Ash, Ms. Raynott,” said Professor McGonagall, pointing to Blossom and Lorna. “I believe the two of you learned the Lapifors Spell?”

“Yes, professor,” said Blossom. She raised her wand, pointed it at the candle, and said, “ _ Lapifors _ !”

In the candle’s place was a small, white rabbit. Professor McGonagall continued calling out pairs, and a variety of birds, rodents, and fish appeared in succession.

“Ms. Black, Mr. Diggory,” she said. Ursula and Cedric walked around their desk to the front of the room.

“You first,” whispered Cedric, giving her a thumbs up.

“ _ Draconifors _ !” said Ursula.

“Well done, Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, eyeing the little dragon. “Mr. Diggory?”

Cedric didn’t hesitate and soon they returned to their seats, grinning in triumph. Amazingly, every single student managed to complete their spell, from Lilian and Gemma’s parakeets to Vanessa and Jasper’s rabbits.

“You’ve all done well,” said Professor McGonagall at the end of class. “Twenty points to each house. I shall see you after the holidays.”

“Merry Christmas!” chorused a few of the students as they bell rang and they filed out of the classroom.

“I’ve just got Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures left,” said Lilian. “And then we get to go home!”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “I can’t wait.”


	23. New Year's Eve

“Happy Christmas, Ursula dear,” said Great Aunt Cassiopeia, enveloping her in a hug. “Please, both of you, sit.”

Ursula and Narcissa joined her at the round table as Cassiopeia’s house elf served tea.

“How is school going?” asked Cassiopeia, dropping two sugar cubes into her teacup and stirring without clinking her spoon against the cup.

“Fine,” said Ursula, taking a sip of her tea.

“Surely you can give me more than that, dear. Which classes are your favorite?”

“Transfiguration,” Ursula answered, “and Care of Magical Creatures. Really, I enjoy all of my classes, but those two are my favorite.”

“Regardless of how appropriate it is for a young lady to take such an interest in magical creatures, I am glad you are enjoying yourself,” said Cassiopeia. “Transfiguration is an excellent discipline as well. Do you play Quidditch?”

“I’m not on the team —”

“I asked if you play. Assuming you do, will you try out?” Cassiopeia’s dark brown eyes studied Ursula’s face intently.

“Aunt Cassiopeia, Quidditch can be very dangerous,” began Narcissa. Cassiopeia shushed her.

“I’m planning on trying out next year,” said Ursula. “But Vanessa’s brother will be a seventh year, and he’s been the reserve chaser for the last two years.”

“Then he’ll be used to it,” said Cassiopeia. Ursula smiled. “Now, when Druella passed, she entrusted me to help pick a suitable match for you.”

“Must we discuss suitors?” said Narcissa. “She is thirteen.”

“Hush, Narcissa,” said Cassiopeia. “I haven’t finished. As I was saying, that was Druella’s wish. _However_ , I think who you marry is of little importance, because you have no need to marry rich. Obviously you should marry a pureblood — _toujours pur_ — but you, my dear, are already rich. You could marry for status, but why would you? You have that, too.”

Ursula couldn’t see where Cassiopeia was going with this.

“My dear, I believe the best way to prepare you for the future is to teach you how to _manage_ your wealth,” Cassiopeia said. “This means investments, trusts — ensuring you are using the money for the right purpose and preserving some for the next generation.”

She didn’t know what to say. Apparently neither did Narcissa, so Cassiopeia plowed on.

“I will, of course, introduce you to my financial advisors, and soon you will have your own team, but I hope to teach you how to choose what to do with your money _yourself_ , so you invest it in your own interest,” said Cassiopeia.

“Thank you,” said Ursula sincerely. “Thank you very much.”

“Think nothing of it, dear,” said Cassiopeia with a wave of her hand. “More tea?”

A little more than an hour later, as Cassiopeia had her house elf fetch their coats, she pulled Ursula aside.

“I want to speak with you out of earshot of my niece,” she said, leading Ursula to an alcove off the hallway. “I do not know if she would agree with what I wish to tell you.”

“What do you want to tell me?” asked Ursula, slightly fearful but intrigued.

“I want to talk to you about duty,” said Cassiopeia. A smile found its way onto her wrinkled face and she cupped Ursula’s chin in her hand. “You have been told that you have a duty to this family. You must marry well, not embarrass us, and uphold our traditions and beliefs.”

“I know,” said Ursula. “ _Toujours pur_.”

But Cassiopeia shook her head.

“No, my dear,” she said. “You have a duty, yes. A duty to your heart. You do not have to become someone you do not choose to be. You may agree to an arranged marriage, but you do not have to. Let no one stand in the way of what you want. If you want to chase dragons or tame hippogriffs, then do it. The cost of your dreams is not the opinions of others. Ignore anyone who says you can’t or you shouldn’t because it’s not ladylike.”

Cassiopeia stroked Ursula’s hair, her eyes kind.

“Besides,” she said, “a good old-fashioned hex will keep them from insulting you again.”

Ursula laughed, but she had teared up a bit. Wiping her eyes, she said, “Thank you Auntie.”

She hugged the old woman tightly, and Cassiopeia hugged her back.

“I love you,” whispered Ursula.

“I love you too, my dear,” said Cassiopeia fondly. “Remember, even if I am not here to see it, I support you no matter what you do, alright?”

“Yes Auntie,” said Ursula, nodding.

“Good girl.”

Cassiopeia dried Ursula’s tears and brought her back to the entrance hall, where Narcissa was waiting patiently.

“We had a good chat,” said the old woman as Ursula put on her coat. “Happy Christmas, to both of you.”

“Happy Christmas, Auntie,” said Ursula, waving as she followed Narcissa out the door.

Narcissa Apparated them back to Malfoy Manor, where Lucius was waiting with important news.

“My father is coming for Christmas,” he said, after greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh,” said Narcissa, her eyes flitting over to Ursula for a brief second.

Ursula took the hint, and retreated upstairs, mulling over what Great Aunt Cassiopeia had told her. She didn’t give much thought to Abraxas Malfoy’s visit; he wasn’t worth the energy. Ursula knew he didn’t like her. She had long given up on winning him over, as he seemed set in his hate. He hated that she was born out of wedlock, hated that her mother had ‘betrayed’ her family, and seemed to hate that his son and grandson loved her so much.

There was no lost love on her side, either; if Abraxas insisted on disliking her, she saw no reason to like him. She would have been more concerned over his visit potentially ruining Christmas, if not for the fact that her grandfather Cygnus was also coming.

Downstairs, Narcissa pointed this fact out to Lucius.

“My father is also coming,” she said, once her niece was safely upstairs. “You know how he and Abraxas fight.”

“I’ve told him to stay civil, especially in earshot of Draco and Ursula,” said Lucius.

“I’m glad we can expect civility, but outright insults were never his style,” said Narcissa. “What if he says something backhanded, or disguises it as a joke?”

“All the more reason for Cygnus to be there,” Lucius said. “I doubt we’ll make it through Christmas without an argument.”

“I just hope to avoid a brawl,” Narcissa responded.

~~~

The next day, a few hours before the ball, this year at the Selwyns’ manor, Abraxas Malfoy arrived.

He was an imposing figure, his jaw set firmly and his cane thumping with every step. His blond hair had long gone white, and he wore it in a low, short ponytail. His blue grey eyes were like chips of ice, and his outfit displayed the wealth he possessed.

Ursula stood beside Draco and a half step behind him in the entrance hall, her face bearing neither a smile or a frown. Abraxas’s eyes passed impassively over her as he drew nearer.

“Draco, my dear boy!” he said, opening his arms for a hug. Draco obliged. “Ursula,” said Abraxas, barely acknowledging her as he moved on to greet Narcissa and Lucius. “Hello Narcissa, Lucius. Happy Christmas.”

“Shall we?” said Narcissa, beckoning to him. “Tea is in the sitting room.”

“Is your father here yet?” asked Abraxas. “Lucius said he would also be coming.”

“Indeed I am,” said Cygnus, stepping out of the sitting room. “Hello Abraxas.”

“Cygnus,” he replied coldly.

“I hope there won’t be any unpleasantness,” said Lucius swiftly. “After all, it is Christmas.”

“Yes,” said Abraxas, passing Cygnus as he entered the sitting room. “Yes it is.”

“Ursula dear,” said Cygnus pointedly. “Why don’t you sit beside me?”

Tea was tense, and Ursula was very relieved when it was over. It had passed with minimal remarks from either man, and soon enough it was time for the ball. The next morning, they opened gifts and everything was going quite swimmingly — the only hiccup being that Abraxas hadn’t gotten Ursula a gift, which bothered Cygnus more than it bothered her — until lunchtime.

“It seems you have carried on the name of Malfoy quite well, Draco my boy,” said Abraxas proudly. “It’s a pity this Potter boy gets in your way.” With the quickest sidelong glance to Cygnus, he added, “I daresay you’ve done the Black family credit as well.”

“He has indeed,” said Cygnus coolly, “as has Ursula.”

Ursula and Draco shared a fearful look as Abraxas and Cygnus entered a round of ‘My horse is bigger than your horse.’

“ _Draco_ is top of his class in Potions,” boasted Abraxas.

“You _are_ quite good at Potions,” whispered Ursula.

“Well _Ursula_ is top of her class in Transfiguration _and_ Potions,” retorted Cygnus.

“Professor McGonagall says great things about you,” whispered Draco in return.

If this hadn’t been such an angry conversation, Ursula might’ve pointed out that both men were wrong when it came to Potions, but she said nothing.

“Not to mention Care of Magical Creatures —” continued Cygnus.

“Oh, yes, Care of Magical Creatures,” sneered Abraxas. “Is she hoping to be gamekeeper, then?”

“If I recall, you yourself _failed_ that class, so I would urge you to _hold your tongue_ ,” said Cygnus coldly. “How unfortunate for Draco that he is related to the likes of _you_.”

“At least Draco isn’t a bastard,” finished Abraxas.

There was silence. The word hung in the air and no one but the two men standing dared acknowledge it. Ursula looked down at her hands.

Quickly, as Cygnus swelled with fury, Narcissa said, “Ursula, take Draco upstairs. I’ll send Dobby up with some lunch.”

They got out of there as fast as they could, and no sooner had the door swung shut behind them then they could hear Cygnus begin to shout. Ursula hurried upstairs, her eyes beginning to fill with tears, and Draco followed.

“Ursula?” he asked hesitantly from the door of her room. “Why did grandfather call you that?”

Ursula gave him a sad, watery smile, and patted the bed. Draco joined her and she put an arm around his shoulders.

“Because it’s true,” she said. “My mother was unmarried when I was born. I am a mistake.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Draco. “I mean, you’re still a pureblood.”

“Your grandfather certainly thinks so,” said Ursula. Draco was quiet for a few moments.

“Then grandfather is wrong,” he announced finally. Ursula looked down at him in surprise.

“Oh?”

Draco nodded.

“You could never be a mistake to me, Ursula,” he explained, smiling up at her. She laughed and combed her fingers through his hair.

“That’s why you’re my favorite dragon,” she said fondly. Narcissa entered the room, sitting gently on the end of the bed.

“Draco darling, run along to your room and eat lunch,” she said. “I want to talk to your cousin alone.”

Draco obediently left the room, shutting the door behind him. Ursula’s eyes began to tear up again and she blinked rapidly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

“I hope what Abraxas said didn’t upset you too much,” said Narcissa quietly. “Your grandfather hit him with a stinging jinx after you left, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t matter. Grandfather agrees with him,” said Ursula bitterly. Narcissa was taken aback.

“Why would you say that?”

“I bet when I was little, he called me a — a — he called me _that_ ,” she spat, wiping tears from her eyes.

“If he did, he realized he was wrong very quickly,” said Narcissa. She reached over and held Ursula’s hand. “No matter what Abraxas says, I want you to know that I love you very much. So do Lucius and Draco. This is your home, we are your family, and we wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

Ursula nodded. She still felt like crying.

“Your mother loved you more than anyone else in the world,” Narcissa continued. “If she were here today… She wanted to give you everything, and she would have. The circumstances of your birth do not decide your life.”

“Don’t they?” said Ursula softly. “My inheritance, my prospects?”

“Yes,” conceded Narcissa. “But the barest amount. Your birth does not affect who you are. And —” she lifted Ursula’s chin and met her eyes “— if the only thing Abraxas can find to criticize about you is that your parents were unmarried when you were born, I’d say who you are is pretty great.”

Narcissa stood, smoothing her dress.

“What would you think about going to stay with your grandfather for a few days? The two of you can spend some alone time together, Great Aunt Cassiopeia can visit, and you can even bring Betelgeuse. What do you say?”

“That… sounds nice,” said Ursula. “I’d love to.”

“Good,” said her aunt. She paused at the door. “Dobby’s waiting with a tray of food for you.”

“I’m not hungry,” said Ursula.

“Are you sure?”

Ursula sighed.

“Go ahead and let him in,” she said.

Narcissa left and Dobby entered, carrying a large tray with ham, bread rolls, mashed potatoes, mini mince pies, and more, as well as an empty glass beside an equally empty pitcher.

“What would Mistress Ursula like to drink?” asked Dobby as he set the tray on her desk.

“Water is fine, thank you,” she replied. Dobby snapped his fingers, and the pitcher filled instantly. “Merry Christmas Dobby.”

“Happy Christmas, Mistress Ursula,” squeaked Dobby.

He left and Ursula went to her window seat, nibbling on a roll and a few slices of ham and cheese as she stared out of her bay windows at the garden stretched out below. She didn’t come out of her room until dinner, during which Abraxas held his tongue and ignored Ursula altogether, though he sent the occasional nasty glare at Cygnus.

Afterwards, Weesy brought down Ursula’s trunk, as well as Betelgeuse’s basket and Agatha’s cage. Ursula bid her family goodbye and Cygnus Apparated them to Corvus Manor, so named for the crows on the Black Family Crest. Phineas Nigellus Black had decided that Black Manor was too common a name, and it had been his wife, Ursula Black née Flint, who had suggested Corvus Manor.

Ursula’s room here was quite different than at Malfoy Manor. Corvus Manor was considerably larger, and felt so, so much emptier. Cygnus lived alone now that Druella had died, and Ursula had not just a suite to herself but an entire wing. Her grandfather had two house elves, Dimsey and Helgie, who kept the place clean, and Dimsey followed her upstairs with her trunk.

The best part of her dreamy suite, in her opinion, wasn’t any of the rooms, but rather the staircase hidden in a fake wardrobe that led to the empty room above. Ursula loved this room, because besides it being quiet and comfortable and empty, it overlooked the grounds of the manor and large bay windows took up one entire side. She liked to come up here when it rained especially, or on the occasion that she wanted to hide from her family for a while.

Ursula checked on Agatha in the owlery — it was really just home to Leopold, Cygnus’s cranky old great-horned owl — before checking on her grandfather in his study.

“Goodnight grandfather,” she said, leaning against the doorframe in her pajamas. “I’m going to the library for a while before I go to bed.”

“Alright dear,” said Cygnus, looking over the top of his spectacles at her. “Goodnight.”

Ursula went down the hall to the library, the crowning jewel of the manor. It was magnificent, two stories tall, well lit and comfortable, with shelves crammed full of old books, many of which talked to dark magic or old curses. There were books here that you wouldn’t even find on the shelves of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts. Ursula steered clear of such things, found the book she was looking for, and curled up in a chair to read. It was only when Betelgeuse pawed at her hand and meowed loudly that she realized it was past midnight.

Ursula shelved her book, scooped him up, and shuffled up to her room. The next morning, she awoke to find Corvus Manor covered in snow, the magnificent hedge maze turned white.

“Good morning Ursula,” said Cygnus when she arrived at breakfast. He unfolded his newspaper and shook it out with a snap. “Sleep alright?”

“Yes grandfather,” she said.

“Tomorrow Great Aunt Cassiopeia wants to take you to Gringotts,” said Cygnus. “But today you can do whatever you like.”

Ursula enlisted the help of Helgie to make a large snowman outside, before bundling up and taking a stroll through the hedge maze, stopping at the large fountain in the middle that was completely frozen solid. She had long since memorized the dead ends in the maze — it wasn’t very difficult but it was large — and she had Betelgeuse for company. He trotted alongside her, bouncing happily through the snow and eventually finding his way onto her shoulder when he got too cold.

She had lunch and dinner with her grandfather, and in between he walked her up and down the portrait hall, conversing with the painted family members to continue her lessons about the family’s history. The next day, Great Aunt Cassiopeia arrived just as they were finishing up lunch.

“Hello Auntie,” said Cygnus, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Would you care for a bite of something? Or tea, perhaps?”

“No, thank you, Cygnus,” said Cassiopeia. “If you’re finished eating, our meeting is at one-fifteen.”

“Of course,” said Cygnus. “Ursula, are you ready?”

“Yes grandfather,” she said. “I just need my coat.”

They Apparated to Ursula’s flat in Diagon Alley and then walked down the street to Gringotts. They entered the bank and were ushered through a door on the left, where the human offices were. Gringotts employed Curse-Breakers such as Bill Weasley to work abroad and financial advisors and lawyers to work at desks here.

The room was filled with cubicles and the walls were completely taken up by doors to offices and whatnot. As it was the holidays, many of these offices and cubicles were empty, but a fair few were still occupied. They approached the front desk and were greeted by a peppy young man whose name plate read ‘Kieran Cooke’.

“Good afternoon!” he said. “Please state your names and your business here.”

“I am Cassiopeia Black, this is my grandnephew Cygnus Black III and his granddaughter Ursula Black,” said Cassiopeia. “We have a meeting with the head of the Advisory Department and Mr. Edwin Graham of the Law Office.”

“Of course!” said Kieran, jumping up from his seat. “Right this way.”

He led them to the third door on the right and opened it, revealing a large conference room into which he ushered them.

“Mr. Evans and Mr. Graham will be here in a moment,” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

Cassiopeia instructed Ursula to sit at the end of the table, with herself and Cygnus on either side. They didn’t have long to wait, as soon the door opened and in came a tall, cheerful man, a much more serious man, and Kieran once again.

“Happy Christmas,” said the tall man, smiling broadly as he sat down at the other end of the table. “I am Alasdair Evans, head of the Gringotts Advisory Department, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Black.”

“You as well, sir,” said Ursula hesitantly.

“This is Edwin Graham, the lawyer who has done wills for a large portion of your family,” Mr. Evans explained, nodding to the serious man, “and this is Kieran Cooke, a junior advisor and the current secretary. Cooke, I’d like you to stay for this meeting and take notes, as long as it is okay with our client.”

“Very well,” said Cassiopeia, answering for Ursula and leaning forward in her seat. “Let’s get started.”

~~~

“Not many thirteen year olds get a financial advisory board for Christmas,” said Ken. It was New Year’s Eve, and he and Ursula were at her flat in Diagon Alley, just the two of them, to celebrate.

The meeting had gone well, Ursula supposed. In the end she had decided she wanted Kieran on her board of advisors, for which he had thanked her profusely, almost embarrassingly, and Mr. Evans said he would be in touch with a list of potential investments for her. It was all very confusing, but Cassiopeia took charge and reassured Ursula that she would help.

Then they had discussed Cygnus’s will, which was why Mr. Graham was there, and how, aside from a small percent for Aunt Bellatrix, Aunt Narcissa, and Draco, the entire fortune plus the estate would go to her on his death. Ursula didn’t like thinking about death one bit, but she did understand what her inheritance meant.

The time between the meeting and now, dinner with her father at her own flat, had gone by quickly. Cygnus continued to tell her stories about long gone purebloods and the rest of the time she spent exploring the house — steering well clear of the dungeons — and playing on her own. Then today Narcissa had picked her up and brought her here, taking Agatha home but letting Betelgeuse join them.

“Here’s a butterbeer for you,” said Ken, handing her the open bottle, “and a firewhisky for me. Actually, this is just a butterbeer as well.”

Ursula giggled.

“School’s going well, then?” said her father. “I’m sorry I can’t write more, but it takes forever for letters to be delivered.”

“It’s fine,” said Ursula. “The letters I get are enough.”

It took about ten days for her letter to get to America, and another ten days to get one back. Her owl could only fly as far as the London Post Office, where the international packages took two or three days to be sent using a Portkey of sorts to the New York Post Office. Incoming international mail took another day or two to process before being sent to the international wizarding post office nearest the destination — in this case, Texas. Finally, an owl took the letter and delivered it to her father at the Thunderbird Sanctuary outside of Phoenix, Arizona.

“School’s going very well,” she continued. “My elective classes are great — Care of Magical Creatures being my obvious favorite — and so are my other classes. I’m struggling a little in Arithmancy but I’ve been studying with my friend Ivy and I haven’t gotten a bad grade yet.”

“You certainly have your mother’s brains,” said Ken, “and I like to think a few of mine got in there as well.”

Ursula laughed again. He loved making her laugh.

“How’s work going?” she asked. “You haven’t told me anything.”

“It’s going well,” he said, nodding. “We’ve had four new arrivals in the last month, Cleo laid a clutch of six eggs, and Alfred’s wing has finally healed. Our only concern is poachers who want the birds for their feathers. Thunderbirds can sense danger, but often get hurt trying to escape them. We haven’t lost any yet, thank Merlin.”

“I’m glad,” said Ursula.

“You know,” said Ken, “you could always do an internship at the sanctuary when you’re older. You have to have taken your OWLs and there’s an application process, but it’s a month long internship over the summer.”

“That sounds great!” she exclaimed. “I’d love to.” She was quiet for a moment. “Dad?”

“Yes little one?”

“Are you… happy?”

The question surprised Ken, so much so that it took him a moment to answer.

“Yes, I’m very happy,” he said. “I love you and my job and our family. I’m very happy. Why do you ask?”

Ursula shrugged.

“I don’t know. Would you ever… date someone?”

“Why? Are you trying to set me up?” joked Ken.

“I mean… like mom…” Ursula didn’t know how to phrase her question, but her father understood.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, his expression softening, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I have been seeing someone, just since, oh I don’t know, Halloween I think. I haven’t mentioned it because I don’t know how long the relationship will last.”

“Who is she?”

“He,” corrected Ken gently. “Who is he.”

Ursula was surprised, but after a moment she said, “Well? Who is he?”

Ken laughed.

“You’re okay with it?” he said.

“Of course, dad,” she replied. “I want you to be happy.”

“Oh, little one,” said Ken fondly. “What would I do without you? His name is Anthony Serrano, he’s my age, and he’s a muggle.”

To be honest, the news that her father’s boyfriend was a muggle was more surprising than the fact he had a boyfriend.

“If all goes well,” continued Ken, “perhaps over the summer the two of you can meet. But it’s too early on to plan anything. Would you like that?”

Ursula nodded and hugged him.

“I’d love it,” she said.

“Is that the time?” said Ken suddenly, checking the clock. “It’s almost the New Year! Quick, go to the window! We wouldn’t want to miss the fireworks.”

They ran over, drinks in hand, and opened the window, where they would be able to see fireworks from both muggle London and those in Diagon Alley.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”


	24. Care of Magical Creatures

“I can’t do it. It’s stupid and pointless and I give up.”

“Great attitude,” remarked Ursula dryly, reaching over and plucking the book from Cassius’s hands. He sunk lower into his seat.

“Why do we have to start studying now? Exams aren’t until June,” he complained.

“It may only be March, but there’s a lot to review,” said Ursula. “Besides, you asked for my help. History of Magic is your worst subject.”

“You’re right,” said Cassius, sitting up begrudgingly. “I did ask for your help. But History of Magic is the worst! It’s so  _ boring _ .”

“Professor Binns certainly doesn’t try to make his classes engaging,” conceded Ursula. “But the actual history is fascinating. You just have to find something that interests you and go from there. How about the Giant Wars?”

“Alright,” said Cassius, taking the book back. “Those are pretty interesting.”

“Good,” said Ursula.

She helped Cassius for the remainder of the free period. Lilian was in Muggle Studies and the rest of the Slytherins were either doing homework or enjoying the nice weather.

“Come on,” said Ursula when the bell rang. “Let’s see what Professor Kettleburn has in store for us today.”

Care of Magical Creatures was their last class of the day, and as it was a Friday they were looking forward to the weekend, which included a Hogsmeade visit. When they arrived — outside this time — they found a hump backed creature the size of a small horse waiting for them. It had two long horns and thumbed feet and ran round and round in its enclosure.

“What is it?” asked Adrian, looking expectantly at Ursula.

“A Graphorn,” she answered, her eyes fixed on it. “A young one, based on its size. Adults are large enough for trolls to ride. They have hides tougher than a dragon’s, repel most spells, and their horns are very valuable ingredients for potions. I don’t know what Professor Kettleburn was thinking as they’re —”

“Gather round!” shouted Professor Kettleburn, gesturing to them all to stand closer to the pen.

“— very dangerous,” finished Ursula under her breath.

“Today, I brought in a young male Graphorn —”

“Uh, Professor?” said Dennis Moon, raising his hand.

“Just a moment Moon. Now, Graphorns —”

“Professor?” This time it was Lorna Raynott who interrupted.

“Hold on to your question, Ms. Raynott. Now, where was I —”

“Professor Kettleburn!” said Cassius loudly. “Look out!”

He just had time to dive out of the way as the Graphorn charged the fence, breaking through it and scattering the students, who screamed.

“Catch him!” shouted Professor Kettleburn, scrambling to his feet and chasing after the Graphorn as he ran back and forth among the class.

Several students lunged and missed as he passed while others retreated further away; the Weasley twins managed to get on his back for a few seconds but the Graphorn bucked and threw them off. He knocked over Cedric and Simon Morrow and nearly trampled Angelina Johnson and Caoimhe Ryan. The third years brought out their wands, but they didn’t know any spells that would work and anything they did try just bounced off the Grahorn’s thick hide.

“Maybe we can get it back in the pen,” said Ursula, winded after chasing after him. “For the most part he goes around the students.”

“Create a chain to change his direction,” said Adrian. “It’s worth a shot.”

The two of them, along with Lilian, Jacob, Cassius, three Hufflepuffs, a Ravenclaw, and Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins, formed a line, standing a little apart and angling towards the broken pen, where they could get Professor Kettleburn to mend the fence if they just got the Graphorn inside. Speaking of Professor Kettleburn, he was chasing red faced after the beast and making just as little progress as everyone else.

The Graphorn came charging towards them, his head lowered like a battering ram.

“This isn’t going to work,” said Ursula.

For a second, it seemed like it might, as the Graphorn changed direction near Lee Jordan and headed towards the pen. But then the Graphorn snorted, shook his head, and broke through the line, slamming into Ursula and Miles Sloper.

She flew through the air, hitting the ground with a thump that knocked her breath out of her. Her friends ran over and Cedric helped her sit up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she wheezed. “Just bruised.”

“There he goes!” shouted Jacob, and Ursula turned in time to see the Graphorn disappear into the Forbidden Forest.

“That’s it,” said Gemma. “I’m dropping Care of Magical Creatures.”

Professor Kettleburn looked pale as he came running up to them.

“Ms… Black… Sloper… are you… all right?” he puffed. Miles groaned.

“Fine, Professor,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Professor, maybe everyone the Graphorn ran into should go to the Hospital Wing,” suggested Blossom. “You know, just in case.”

“Very well, Ms. Ash,” said Professor Kettleburn. “I think that would be wise. Class dismissed. Let me know how, er, everyone is.”

“Let me help you,” said Cassius, offering Ursula a hand. “You got hit pretty hard.”

“Thanks,” she said, wincing as she got to her feet. Many of the students struggled towards the Hospital Wing. Luckily, no one was bleeding or had any broken bones, but quite a few of them sustained bruises.

“There we go,” said Madam Pomfrey, handing Ursula a bright pink potion. “Drink up. Your shoulder will be sore for a few days, and the bruise on your chest and arm won’t go away immediately, but that’ll ease the pain. Try not to move your arm too much for the next day or two.”

She bustled over to the next student, muttering, “I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing. Putting students in danger.”

The next day, there was much talk among the third years about Professor Kettleburn as they headed into Hogsmeade. Ursula tried to follow Madam Pomfrey’s instructions and winced every time she had to move her arm.

“Professor Dumbledore put him on probation,” said Lilian as they stroked up the street towards Madam Puddifoot’s. Vanessa has practically begged that they come here and have tea together and they had finally agreed.

“I went to Professor Snape and dropped the class,” said Gemma. “I didn’t sign up to get hurt.”

“What is this place?” asked Lilian in a horrified voice as they stepped inside. The colorful decorations weren’t the problem. It was the lace. And the frills. And the almost sickening smell of perfume that hung in the air.

“Cute, isn’t it?” said Vanessa, mistaking Lilian’s question for sincere. “I’d love to come here on a date someday.”

Lilian snorted as a waitress led them to a lace covered table.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with the Three Broomsticks,” she said, although quietly so Vanessa wouldn’t hear.

“I’d have to agree,” said Gemma, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” said Ursula encouragingly, but both girls nodded to say it was that bad. Truth be told, it wasn’t her idea of fun either, but she always enjoyed having tea and she didn’t want to diminish Vanessa’s enthusiasm. “The real question is, will Professor Kettleburn be fired?”

“I think if he tones his lessons down he’ll be safe,” said Lilian. “My dad told me he’s been put on probation, like, sixty times.”

“Maybe he’ll finally retire,” said Ursula.

“Anything’s possible,” said Gemma. “But I’m not going back. Vanessa dear, how about you order?”


	25. The Norwegian Ridgeback

“Quirrell looks like he’s about to keel over,” whispered Cassius, leaning around Vanessa. Ursula shushed him.

“You’re right,” she whispered back, “but pay attention.”

In the weeks since Christmas, Professor Quirrell had only gotten paler, thinner, and more jumpy, if that was even possible. Rumors flew about what was making him look and act this way, but no one had any convincing ideas. Ursula noticed Fred and George’s little brother Ron had started telling people off for making fun of Professor Quirrell’s stutter, which was a nice effort but not very effective coming from a first year.

Professor Kettleburn’s probation ended after a month of harmless lessons involving flobberworms, horklumps, and a very frightened Porlock, but he didn’t seem too bothered by being put on probation at all.

“I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?” he grunted, before narrowly avoiding a murtlap bite.

The Easter holidays came and went, mostly spent doing homework to prepare for the end of year exams. The third years were used to their teachers piling on more homework as the year came to an end, but it was still a bit of a drag.

Adrian gained more and more confidence after every practice and game. Ursula and Cassius occasionally came to watch him practice, but as their exams drew nearer they had less and less free time. Slytherin had defeated Ravenclaw two months prior, and in the first week of May they defeated Hufflepuff as well. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, they would win the Quidditch Cup. If not, Slytherin house would be the champions once again.

Draco seemed to be enjoying his first year. Ursula made time to check in with him every few days at least and ask about his classes and whatnot. He had made friends, which she was glad of, but only fellow Slytherins, and couldn’t seem to become more than acquaintances with Cillian O’Hara.

“He’s just not one of us,” complained Draco one afternoon. Ursula sighed.

“He doesn’t have to be,” she said, idly turning a page in her book.

The topic Draco was most intent on talking about was Harry Potter, a subject that didn’t interest Ursula in the slightest. Draco was always going on and on about him and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

“ _ Potter _ ,” he would say, whenever he reached the end of his rant.

“Draco dear,” said Ursula finally, when she couldn’t take any more discussion of Harry Potter. “ _ Please _ , unless Harry actually  _ does  _ something, I ask that you stop talking about him.”

“But he —”

“Not liking someone doesn’t make everything they do suspicious,” said Ursula. “If you dislike him so much, don’t let him occupy so much of your thoughts.”

This advice seemed to work, or at least Draco stopped talking about Harry every time he saw Ursula. Either way, she was pleased.

One day, at the end of May, Draco was practically bouncing as he passed Ursula, clutching a dilapidated old book in his hands.

“What have you got there?” asked Ursula, stopping him. “That’s not one of yours, is it?”

“It’s Weasley’s,” said Draco. “Look what’s inside!”

He handed Ursula a letter, which she unfolded with trepidation.

_ Dear Ron, _

_ How are you? Thanks for the letter — I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. _

_ Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. _

_ Send me an answer as soon as possible. _

_ Love, _

_ Charlie _

“Why did you take this from Ron?” asked Ursula. “And what’s all this about a dragon?”

“That oaf —”

“Don’t call him an oaf.”

“The gamekeeper has one!” said Draco gleefully. “It’s illegal! Potter and his friends are trying to help him smuggle it out. Weasley’s in the Hospital Wing because the dragon bit him.”

“Draco, you shouldn’t have taken this from Ron,” said Ursula. Draco’s face fell at once.

“But it’s illegal!  _ And  _ suspicious! Besides,” he added defensively, “I was just borrowing it.”

“Perhaps,” said Ursula, taking the book from Draco and tucking the letter back inside. “But it’s  _ also  _ none of your business. You and I both know you weren’t  _ really  _ borrowing it. Harry and his friends may be fools, but that doesn’t mean you have to be one as well. I forbid you from following them on Saturday. You’ll only get into trouble.”

“But Ursula,” Draco whined. “What if they get away with it?”

“I’m sorry Draco,” she replied. “It’s for your own good. If Filch catches, and you’re out of bed as well, it won’t matter your intentions. You’re better off staying out if it, understand?”

Draco nodded and she gave him a hug.

“Good,” she said. “Now, I’m off to study. I’ll be returning this —” she held up the book “— to its rightful owner.”

Ursula entered the library, joining Blossom, Ivy, and Lilian at one of the tables.

“There you are!” said Blossom. “I desperately need your help or I’m going to fail Transfiguration.”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” said Ursula, pulling out her books and notes.

“She is,” said Ivy. “Sorry Blossom.”

“She’s right,” said Blossom. “Please help me.”

“I will, don’t worry,” said Ursula. “Ivy, I was hoping you could help me memorize the rune translations.”

“Sure thing,” said Ivy. “I need someone to help me with Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“I can do that,” volunteered Lilian.

“And I’ll help you with Muggle Studies,” said Blossom. “Ursula, are you ready?”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “Just let me finish this real quick.”

She finished scrawling a quick letter on a piece of stationary and blew on it to dry the ink faster.

“I think I’ve got the theory down,” said Blossom when Ursula was done. “It’s just, none of the spells work, or if they do the transformation isn’t complete. And I can’t turn any of the objects back.”

“Let’s start there,” said Ursula, pulling out her wand. I’ll transfigure my quill into a dragon, and then you transfigure it back. The incantation is ‘ _ Reparifarge _ .’”

She pointed her wand at her quill.

“ _ Draconifers _ !”

Cygnet was back. He flapped his wings but didn’t go anywhere. Ursula stroked his head.

“Alright Blossom,” said Ursula. “Focus on what you’re trying to do. You can do it.”

Soon it was dinnertime, and all four girls emerged successful, having managed to cast some spells, memorize runes, finish an essay over Red Caps, and learned what an airplane was. They headed down to the Great Hall together, and Ursula hung back when she saw Harry Potter and Hermione Granger coming down the stairs.

“Hey Potter, Granger!” she said, strolling over to them. Harry looked up. “I believe this belongs to your friend.”

She held the book out to him and he took it with an expression of obvious relief. He didn’t wait to flip open the over and check if the letter was still there.

“Thanks!” they chorused.

After dinner, Ursula didn’t head down to the Slytherin common room with the others.

“I’ve just got to send a letter,” she said. “It won’t take long.”

She headed to the Owlery, greeting Agatha with a piece of sausage she saved from dinner.

“You’ve got a long flight,” said Ursula, as she tied the letter to Agatha’s leg. Her owl hooted and nuzzled her hand before taking off into the dusk. Ursula watched her go, admiring her beautiful feathers, and then headed down the many stairs to the dungeons.

_ Dear Charlie, _

_ Tell your brother to be more careful about where he leaves his letters. My cousin found it in a book he claims to have ‘borrowed’ from Ron. Draco never should have taken the book, but Ron needs to be more careful with important belongings. I’ve told Draco not to interfere, but now that he knows I can’t guarantee he’ll listen to me. _

_ I hope all is well in Romania. _

_ Best wishes, _

_ Ursula Black _


	26. The End of Year Exams

“Just a week of exams and then we’re done,” said Adrian. “I can’t wait to go home. Don’t get me wrong, I love Hogwarts, but I’ve had just about enough History of Magic for one year.”

“Here’s your schedule,” said Ursula. She scanned her own exam schedule to make sure she had everything copied down correctly.

_ Monday: _

_ 9 o’clock, Transfiguration _

_ 1 o’clock, Arithmancy _

_ Tuesday: _

_ 9 o’clock, Charms _

_ 1 o’clock, History of Magic _

_ 3 o’clock, Ancient Runes _

_ Wednesday: _

_ 9 o’clock, Potions _

_ 1 o’clock, Care of Magical Creatures _

_ 11 o’clock, Astronomy _

_ Thursday: _

_ 9 o’clock, Herbology _

_ Friday: _

_ 9 o’clock, Defense Against the Dark Arts _

It was Saturday, two days before their exams began and two weeks before they would be home for the summer. Ursula hoped all would be smooth sailing so she could concentrate on her exams.

“Mail’s here,” said Lilian, as a barrage of owls came swooping into the Great Hall.

Aside from her usual delivery of the Daily Prophet, an owl from the Hogsmeade Post Office arrived, dropping a letter in front of her written in her father’s hand.

_ Dear Ursula, _

_ I’ve made arrangements for you to stay with me in Phoenix this summer. I’ll come to England in a few weeks to get you, and we’ll fly in a Muggle airplane to America together. How does that sound? You’ll be staying with me for three weeks in July. I’ve given Narcissa and Lucius all of the necessary information and I can’t wait to see you! _

_ I’ve told Tony all about you, and I hope you are as excited to meet him as he is to meet you. Magic fascinates him and I even introduced him to Alfred and some of the other thunderbirds. We have so much planned for your visit. _

_ Good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great! _

_ Love, _

_ Dad _

Ursula grinned and showed the letter to Lilian.

“An airplane?” she said enviously. “You have to tell me all about your trip, especially all the Muggle things you do. I’d love to go to America.”

“One day I’ll bring you with me,” said Ursula.

The excitement of her upcoming trip kept Ursula in high spirits, so she was ready for her first exam Monday morning. Blossom however, was not.

“I’m going to fail,” repeated Blossom over and over all morning. Ursula sat with her at breakfast to help her practice, but her bigger mission was to calm her friend down.

“No you’re not,” said Ursula once again. “You’ve studied and practiced and you can do this. Say ‘I can do it.’”

“I can do it,” said Blossom.

“Say it again. Take a deep breath.”

“I can do it,” repeated Blossom.

Blossom and Ursula kept this up all the way to Transfiguration, and only when they were outside the door did Blossom turn around and say, “I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” said Ursula sternly. They were being called in alphabetically, and it was Blossom’s turn as Benjamin Allen had just left the room, shoulders slumped. He didn’t help Blossom’s confidence. “Now go in there and do it. You’re going to do great.”

Blossom nodded and took a deep breath.

“I can do it,” she said, before entering the classroom.

A few minutes ticked by before Blossom emerged, limp and ashen faced but grinning triumphantly.

“I did it!” she said, giving Ursula a hug. “My tortoise still had a willow patterned shell from the teapot, but I did it! Thank you for helping me!”

“I knew you could do it,” said Ursula. She didn’t have long to wait before it was her turn, and she passed the test with flying colors, which was a great way to kick off her exams.

Her confidence stuck around for her Arithmancy exam that afternoon, and all of the Slytherins did well in Charms the next morning. In History of Magic they were hard pressed to remember everything they could about witch hunts, not helped by the stifling temperature of the classroom, and everyone was relieved when the exam ended and they could leave.

The exam Ursula was most concerned with was Ancient Runes; she had studied with Ivy and spent hours memorizing the rune translations, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief when Professor Babbling told her she had done well.

All three of her exams on Wednesday went better than she could have hoped. Her Confusing Concoction thickened nicely and Fred and George managed not to cause any explosions, although Fred’s potion bubbled ominously and George’s was a lurid shade of green. Professor Kettleburn had prepared a complex set of magical creatures for them to feed, groom, move, or befriend, including fire crabs and bowtruckles. The Graphorn was noticeably absent. At midnight, they had Astronomy up on the tallest tower and it seemed to go well for all; Cassius in particular was thrilled with his star chart.

Ursula completed her Herbology exam on Thursday and Defense Against the Dark Arts on Friday with little difficulty, although Professor Quirrell was distractingly twitchy and had to resort to writing their instructions on the chalkboard behind him.

“All done!” said Adrian, throwing his hands up in relief when he emerged from his Divination exam. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and many of the third years headed out on the lawn with the rest of the school to enjoy it.

Cassius bounded over to a large beech tree on the edge of the lake to claim the shade before anyone else could. Ursula, Lilian, and Adrian joined him, watching as the Weasley twins and Lee tickled the Giant Squid.

“What are you all doing for the summer?” asked Ursula, reclining on the grass beside Lilian.

“Funnily enough, we’re spending more time in Scotland,” said Lilian. “We’re staying with my grandparents for a week.”

“Father said we might go to France,” said Cassius, “but other than that I have no plans.”

“Me neither,” said Adrian. Propping himself up on his elbows, he added, “Hey! We should all hang out!”

They all agreed that it was a great idea, and Adrian promised to owl them the details. Cassius draped his arms over his friends’ shoulders.

“With exams over, next week will be easy,” he said. “No surprises.”

Cassius couldn’t have been more wrong.

The next morning, Hogwarts was buzzing with rumors. Professor Quirrell was missing, fired, or dead depending on who you got the story from. They knew that there had been some sort of obstacle course and that the third floor corridor was part of it; they knew it included a giant chess set, a Devil’s Snare, and more. Harry Potter was involved somehow — some say he killed Quirrell, others that Quirrell knocked Harry out before fleeing Hogwarts; each rumor was harder to believe than the last— and was still unconscious in the Hospital Wing.

With Harry out of commission, Gryffindor suffered their worst defeat to Ravenclaw in three hundred years and Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup. This particular piece of news was terrific for the Slytherins, even those who felt bad that Harry couldn’t play.

While Ursula sent Harry a box of chocolate frogs, Fred and George’s attempts to deliver were ultimately — and thankfully — unsuccessful. Madam Pomfrey confiscated it on the fourth attempt.

None of the teachers addressed the rumors about Professor Quirrell’s disappearance, other than to say he would not be returning. Whatever the reason, there was no lost love among the students.

“The next one  _ has  _ to be better,” said Gemma.

“How much worse could it get?” said Adrian. “We just need a qualified, capable teacher. How hard could it be to find one?”

Slytherin had a comfortable lead on the other three houses and was set to win the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. The Great Hall was decked out with green and silver and a huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the high table. The other houses weren’t too happy, but even among Slytherin there were a few people not too pleased at their win.

“We’re only in the lead because Snape favors us like crazy,” said Lilian in a furious whisper to Ursula as they sat down at the feast. “It’s not fair.”

“I agree,” whispered Ursula back. “It’s unprofessional for a teacher to be so biased. I’d rather lose the House Cup for once than win it because Professor Snape hates everyone else.”

“Another year gone!” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully, rising from his seat and silencing the hall. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…”

Many of the students laughed. Cassius whistled.

“Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two.”

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Draco banged his goblet on the table. The other houses looked miserable.

“Yes, yes, well done Slytherin,” said Professor Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

The room went very still. The Slytherins’ smiles faded a little.

“Ahem,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see… Yes. First — to Mr. Ronald Weasley…”

“What is he doing?” said Vanessa.

“… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy Weasley could be heard telling the other prefects, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

At last there was silence again.

“Second — to Miss Hermione Granger… for the cool use of logic in the face of fear, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Gryffindor was in third place now, close to Ravenclaw — and Professor Dumbledore hadn’t finished.

“Third — to Mr. Harry Potter…” said Professor Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. “For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points — exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the House Cup.

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” whispered Lilian.

Professor Dumbledore raised his hand. The hall gradually fell silent.

“There are all kinds of courage,” he said, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. The Slytherins sat in stunned silence as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined the storm of applause.

“Which means,” Professor Dumbledore called, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Professor Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand, with a horrible, forced smile.

“This is ridiculous,” said Gemma.

“Something incredible must have happened to make Professor Dumbledore do this,” said Ursula calmly. She disagreed with the timing of the announcement, but wasn’t too disappointed by the loss.

“We earned it!” protested Jacob. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s certainly fairer than Professor Snape giving you points for ‘helping’ Angelina Johnson,” snapped Lilian. “She was sitting next to you and her potion was perfect while yours was terrible. It’s just the House Cup. Get over it.”

Most of the Slytherins, however, weren’t going to get over it in the next few minutes. The feast was delicious but the shock of the event made it harder to enjoy.

The next morning, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Betelgeuse had willingly climbed into his basket, and notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays.

“I always hope they’ll forget to give us these,” said Fred sadly.

Soon they had boarded the Hogwarts Express and were talking, laughing, and gorging themselves on candy as the countryside became greener and tidier. They sped past Muggle towns and switched their robes for jackets, and they finally pulled into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

Ursula bid her friends goodbye and promised to write before easily locating Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa.

“Had a good term?” asked Lucius, helping Draco with his trolley.

“Oh, it was interesting,” said Ursula. “I’d say it was good. How about you, Draco?”

“It would have been,” said Draco, his face drawn into a frown.

“Did you have fun?” asked Narcissa.

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Draco.

“Then it was a good term,” said Ursula. As they left the station, she distinctly heard him mutter one word.

“ _ Potter _ .”

Ursula laughed and slung her arm around his shoulders.

“Oh Draco,” she said affectionately. “Whatever shall you do?”


	27. America

Ursula had been to America before, perhaps once a year or so since she was eight, but this visit was special. For one thing, it was the longest one she’d ever had, and for another she would be meeting her dad’s boyfriend for the first time.

Their plane touched down shortly after lunch in Phoenix, which was nighttime back in England. Ursula was tired and hungry and couldn’t wait to get to the Thunderbird Sanctuary. They gathered up their luggage and Ken Apparated them to the little hut that controlled the sanctuary’s gate. A freckled man leaned out of the small window as they approached.

“Hey there Ken,” he called. “Is that Ursula I see?”

Ursula grinned and waved, recognizing him as Alexander Collins. Everyone at the sanctuary knew who she was. Aside from having met most of them before, Ken talked about her a lot.

“Yup, just in from England,” said Ken.

“You’ll be needing a cart, I suppose,” said Alexander, pointing to the row of golf carts waiting opposite the hut. He handed Ken a key. “Have fun Ursula!”

They loaded their luggage onto the back of a cart and hopped in, waving goodbye as Alexander opened the gate and they drove off down the dirt road. The sanctuary was divided into four quadrants, each with seventy-five to a hundred adult thunderbirds. Ken was in charge of the northeast quadrant, which was a huge responsibility and one that filled Ken with pride to complete.

As they drove along, different ornithologists waved and shouted hello. They passed paddocks, pastures, and barns dotted with magnificent thunderbirds, their gold and white plumage shimmering with cloud-like patterns. Soon they reached Ken’s home, a two story cabin that stood in the middle of a neat row of other single story cabins. Two thirds of the ornithologists lived on site, each in their own little home. Ursula loved her father’s cabin, which had been his ever since he succeeded the previous director of the northeast quadrant a few years ago.

“Home sweet home,” said Ken, opening the door for Ursula. At once they were greeted by a very excited Australian Shepherd.

“Good girl,” cooed Ken.

“Dad, you didn’t tell me you got a dog!” said Ursula, bending down to pet her.

“Didn’t I?” said Ken airily. “I suppose I wanted her to be a surprise. Meet Pepper.”

“Hi Pepper!”

“Why don’t you go unpack?” suggested Ken, amused. “I’d let you nap, but you’ve got to get adjusted to the time difference as soon as possible. I’m going to check up on things, see if there are any changes since I left. I’ll be back soon.”

“Ok, bye dad!”

Ursula carried her luggage upstairs with Pepper at her heels. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and before Ken was director the second bedroom had been used as an office. Ken had no need for an office, not when he preferred to work at the dining table or outside, but he did need a second bedroom for Ursula. It pained her to leave Betelguese behind, but he was not overly fond of thunderbirds and didn’t do well in heat.

And oh, was it hot. Ursula could practically hear the sun at this point, as the temperature was well past a hundred. Once again, she was thankful for Muggle technology as the air conditioning kicked it. It never got this hot in Wiltshire.

She began to unpack, sliding her clothes neatly into her dresser. Out the window beside her bed she could see the roofs of the other cabins, and beyond them a gorgeous view of the thunderbirds themselves, playing, grooming, and occasionally flying, their handlers taking great care of them.

Ursula stayed inside for the rest of the afternoon. Despite her fascination with thunderbirds, she was drowsy and hungry, so she made herself a snack and waited for her dad to return. Soon he did, and after an early dinner and a nighttime check on the thunderbirds, Ursula finally got to sleep, happy in her home away from home.

“Rise and shine!” called Ken, too early the next morning for Ursula’s liking. She could smell eggs being cooked downstairs and hurried to get dressed.

“Put lots of sunscreen on after you eat,” said Ken, handing her a cheesy omelet. “I don’t want you getting burned out there.”

Ursula nodded. Once she was done, she went back upstairs and made sure she had plenty of sunscreen on any exposed skin. She grabbed her cowboy hat after a moment’s hesitation and met her father by the front door.

“That’s my girl!” said Ken affectionately, tipping the brim of her hat. “Nice hat, little one.”

They headed outside and were greeted by a hot, sunny day.

“I thought we’d head to the barn and see how the eggs are doing,” said Ken. “Then we can check on the hatchlings and finally tour the fields. How does that sound?”

“It sounds great,” said Ursula. They strolled past the cabins, Pepper lolloping happily in front of them, and soon reached a big barn that housed clutches of eggs, young hatchlings, and their mothers. There were other barns, in which to house injured thunderbirds or to hide if poachers came near.

“Hello Alice,” said Ken, speaking to the witch nearest the door. She was busy inspecting a clutch of seven eggs, checking each one for soft spots while their proud mother watched.

“Hi Ken,” said Alice, standing and giving the thunderbird a pat. “Well done Molly.” She turned to Ursula and stuck out her hand. “Hello Ursula dear, so nice to see you again.”

Ursula shook her hand happily. She had always liked Alice Delaney. Truth be told, she liked everyone at the sanctuary.

“We’re just coming in to check on the eggs,” said Ken. “No problems since I left, I assume?”

“None at all,” said Alice. “Poppy should lay her eggs in a week or two. Have fun!”

The barn was neatly divided into pens and Ken and Ursula stopped at each one to see the clutches of eggs and the thunderbird watching over them. Thunderbirds tended to lay between four and ten eggs in a clutch, though ten was rare.

“We bring the fathers in after they’ve worked off some of their energy,” said Ken as he fed a thunderbird named Millie. “Thunderbirds are equally protective of their eggs and take turns watching over them in the wild, so we’ve done our best to imitate that routine here.”

After that they headed out to a pasture to see Cleo’s hatchlings — they were each about Pepper’s size and flapped their wings and snapped their beaks, warming up to Ursula after a moment — and then they visited the adult thunderbirds.

Ursula was happy just to sit and admire them. In her opinion, thunderbirds were some of the most beautiful creatures in the world. Their iridescent feathers came in shades of gold ranging from bronze to pale yellow, accompanied by grey or white feathers. When summoning storms, their feathers shifted to electrifying blue, to silver, and even to deep navy. Ursula supposed that their friendliness to her came from their ability to sense danger, and that all had decided she wasn’t a threat.

She met Alfred, the thunderbird whose wing Ken had healed before Christmas, Major, a large thunderbird who was Molly’s mate, Leonard, Moses, and Bill. The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky and the day got hotter and hotter, so Ursula was relieved when it was time for lunch.

It was also time to meet Tony.

Ken Apparated them to a restaurant in Phoenix, and they sat in awkward silence until Tony arrived.

Ursula’s first impressions of him were positive. He was well dressed, his suit free of wrinkles, and he had a warm smile. He was tan and his curly black hair was short. Tony greeted Ken with a hug before holding out his hand to Ursula.

“Hello Ursula,” he said as she shook his hand. His handshake was firm and his voice friendly. “I’m Tony Serrano. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“You as well,” said Ursula, smiling back at him. A waitress came by for their order. “So Tony, my dad said you work as an aerospace engineer?”

Tony nodded.

“I design different kinds of aircraft,” he said. “Planes, helicopters, anything else that flies.”

“Ursula plays Quidditch,” put in Ken. “She’s going to try out for the team next year, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am,” said Ursula. The conversation was awkward, but if there was one thing Madam Tripe had taught her it was how to have a proper conversation. “How did the two of you meet?”

Ken and Tony exchanged a glance, as if remembering the event fondly.

“We actually met at a rodeo,” answered Tony. “Not something I usually do, I assure you. Ken told me he was ‘a vet of sorts’ and ‘interested in ornithology’. I had no idea he was —” he lowered his voice slightly “— a wizard.”

“When did you find out?” asked Ursula. “And what is a ‘rodeo’?”

“A rodeo is like a contest for cowboys,” explained her father. “They show off how well they can ride a bucking horse, rope a calf, et cetera. And as for when he found out —”

“Ken did a very poor job of hiding it,” said Tony. “I’d see him walk up to the door empty handed and suddenly he’d have a bouquet of flowers, or his tie would be untied and without ever touching it it would be fixed. I was starting to wonder if he was a magician, then one day — a bit before Valentine’s Day, I think — he sat me down and said, and I quote, ‘I have to tell you something that may change everything you think about me… I can do magic.’”

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ dramatic —” protested Ken.

“Yes, yes it was,” said Tony. “You were all prepared to launch into this long explanation, but I told you I already knew.”

“Actually, you said, ‘Darling, I know, now tell me why you didn’t help me change that tire last week?’,” said Ken. Ursula giggled.

“Well why didn’t you?” teased Tony.

Ken blushed. Ursula didn’t get an answer, for just then their food arrived.

“So Ursula,” said Tony. “How’s school going? Ken said you were in… Slytherin?”

“I am,” replied Ursula. “School is going very well. I like all of my classes, particularly Care of Magical Creatures and Transfiguration.” Realizing Tony wouldn’t know what she was talking about, she added, “Care of Magical Creatures is pretty self explanatory, and Transfiguration is all about, er, transforming things into other things, like a cat into a cauldron or a bird into a water goblet.”

“Magic is so fascinating,” said Tony. “You live with your aunt and uncle, right?”

“And my cousin,” said Ursula, nodding. “He’s twelve.”

“I was thinking the two of you could come over for dinner on Saturday,” said Tony. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds good to me,” said Ken. “Ursula?”

“It’ll be fun,” she said.

The rest of lunch passed much the same as it had begun, with the conversation growing less and less awkward as they progressed. Soon it came to an end, and Tony hugged Ken goodbye, opting for another handshake with Ursula.

“Well?” said Ken once they had Apparated back to the sanctuary. Ursula could hear an anxious note in his voice. “What did you think?”

“I like him,” said Ursula.

~~~

“Ursula, this is Amelia Kelley. She runs the sanctuary’s internship program.”

It was mid afternoon a day after Ursula had met Tony. After working with thunderbirds all morning, Ken had brought her to the northwest quadrant and now she was standing in front of a tall woman who looked like no stranger to hard work.

“Hello Ursula,” said Amelia, shaking her hand. Her hands were calloused and her grip was firm. “Your father said you were interested in our program.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Ursula. “I was hoping you could tell me more about it.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Amelia. “Please, sit.”

She took a seat behind her desk, rifled through a stack of papers, and handed Ursula a pamphlet.

“The ATSIP was established almost twenty years ago,” said Amelia. “Each year, we accept between three and ten interns, depending on the number of applicants. You are in luck, as we do accept international students, though they are rare. You have to have completed your fifth year of school.”

“What is the application process like?” asked Ursula.

“For starters you need two letters of recommendation, one of which must be from the teacher of your magical beasts class,” said Amelia. “The deadline to apply is mid March, and the application itself must be filled out in its entirety. It includes questions about you and an essay on why you want to partake in the internship. You should give enough time for your application to arrive by mail. We will let you know if you have been accepted by the end of May.”

“How many applicants are there, usually?”

“Oh, ten to fifteen, I’d say,” said Amelia. “It takes a certain kind of person to be interested in our program. Any more questions?”

“Is there anything else I should know about the internship?” asked Ursula.

“It is very hands on and very physical,” said Amelia. “And it is a paying internship. Interns make four dragots an hour, equivalent to eleven dollars and twenty cents in American Muggle currency, and one galleon, one sickle, and thirty-five knuts in British wizarding money. Interns work six days a week, eight or more hours a day. The days sound long, but we hope they are fun.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula.

“I look forward to your application,” said Amelia.

~~~

“Welcome, welcome,” said Tony as he ushered them inside, greeting Ken with a kiss on the cheek. “Happy fourth of July!”

They followed him through his house — a modest bungalow with a few decorations — to the backyard, where Tony had set up some chairs, a cooler with soda for Ursula and beer for him and Ken, and a large fan that swiveled from side to side. It was just the three of them. Well, the three of them, Pepper, and Sergeant, Tony’s miniature schnauzer.

Sergeant looked like a grumpy old man, rather reminding Ursula of her own grandfather, but he wagged his little tail and trotted right over to her.

“I’ll fire up the grill,” said Tony.

Ursula had celebrated the fourth of July just once before with her dad, and it was more to set off fireworks than to actually celebrate the holiday. She wore red, white, and blue, but those were also the colors in Britain’s flag and she had to stop herself from wearing a t-shirt with a Union Jack on it. All around them in Tony’s neighborhood they could smell barbecues and hear loud laughter, a sense of camaraderie in the very air. She didn’t quite know what to make of it all.

She took a rootbeer from the cooler and sat down on one of the lawn chairs, accepting a bag of chips from her dad. Soon Tony was ready to cook, and he grilled corn on the cob and hamburgers for dinner. Nearly all awkwardness was gone, the conversation relaxed.

Ursula could see why her dad liked Tony. He was easygoing and had a good sense of humor, but he wasn’t lazy. He was good with people (and dogs) and he balanced out well with her dad’s enthusiasm and energy. It definitely helped her opinion of him when Tony proved himself to be a capable cook, even on the grill. Her dad was pretty reliant on magic when it came to cooking and would probably burn his house down if he had to cook without it.

The sky darkened, and eventually fireworks began to light up the air. Ken cast a protective charm over Sergeant and Pepper’s ears so the fireworks wouldn’t spook them. Ursula loved seeing the different colors and shapes that came out of fireworks, and once the Muggle fireworks had died down Ken pulled out a crate of his own.

Surrounded by Muggles in this neighborhood, they couldn’t set off anything too exciting, but they had great fun shooting off rockets with long tails of silver sparks and sparklers that gave off multicolored sparks that lasted for ages.

Eventually, when the sky had long since filled with stars and at last they had run out of fireworks, it was time to leave, but they saw Tony again soon. A few days later, he came to the sanctuary for a picnic.

In America, the rules around Muggles were far less strict and as long as Tony told no one — let’s face it, who would believe him if he did — it was alright for him to entire the sanctuary. He marveled at the thunderbirds and a great portion of their picnic was spent discussing the aerodynamics of thunderbird wings. Eventually Ursula couldn’t take any more discussion of bird wings, and she had to change the subject.

“Do you have any siblings?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Tony. “I have two sisters and a brother. My older sister Reyna and her husband Esteban have three kids. Esmeralda’s a year older than you, I think, and Rosita and Alejandro are just a few years younger. Marisol — my other sister — and Vincente have two boys, Matteo and Rafael. I think they’re just a little younger than you. And then Felipe, and his wife Elena, have two kids, Nicolas and Gabriella. My parents live here in Phoenix.”

Tony leaned over to grab a slice of watermelon.

“Now, since I’ve told you a bit about my family, you have to tell me about yours.”

“Well, my mother had three sisters,” said Ursula. “Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. I don’t — we don’t really see Bellatrix and her husband… Andromeda was disowned for, er, marrying a muggleborn wizard named Ted, but I still visit her. They have one daughter, my cousin Nymphadora, who’s training to be an Auror.”

“‘Auror’?”

“A… dark wizard catcher,” explained Ursula.

“I had no idea there were dark wizards,” said Tony thoughtfully. “Anyway, Narcissa, that’s the aunt you live with, right?”

“Right,” said Ursula. “I live with her, my uncle Lucius, and their son, Draco. He just finished his first year at Hogwarts and is a Slytherin, like me.”

“Is everyone in your family a Slytherin?”

“Everyone on my mother’s side,” said Ursula, nodding. “I have one cousin who was a Gryffindor, but he was disowned.”

“Is that something your family does a lot?” asked Tony. “Disowning someone?”

Ursula thought about her answer for a moment.

“Most of my family is very… traditional,” she said slowly. “They have certain beliefs that everyone in the family must follow and are proud of those beliefs. That’s why we’re called ‘the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.’ The family motto is  _ toujours pur _ , meaning always pure. It comes from a belief that pureblood wizards should only marry other purebloods. That’s why Andromeda was disowned.”

“Very interesting,” said Tony. He seemed to find this information more interesting than alarming, and didn’t seem phased in the slightest. Ideally, in Ursula’s mind, her family wouldn’t find out about him. “Thank you for sharing.”

On Saturday, a few days after the picnic, Ken left Ursula alone at the sanctuary while he went to meet Tony’s parents for the first time. She slept in and spent most of her day in the barn, which was cooler than outside and provided a break from the sun.

“How did it go?” she asked, when her dad entered the barn later in the afternoon.

“Alright, I think,” said Ken, moving to stand in front of one of the pens. “Rosa and Roberto were very nice. I told them I was a vet for, er, large animals. Did you have fun without me?”

Ursula shrugged.

“I always have fun here,” she said. “But I missed you.”

“I missed you too, little one,” said Ken. “I’m glad you like Tony.”

~~~

The last week of Ursula’s stay flew by faster than a thunderbird. She helped clean the mud off of a new arrival, got to watch Molly’s eggs hatch, and even got to fly on Alfred’s back. Her father owned an old Muggle camera and she had been taking lots of pictures with it, which he promised he would get developed. For the most part her stay at the sanctuary had been smooth sailing, but that was about to change.

Late Thursday night — so late it was probably Friday morning — long after everyone but the watchmen on duty had gone to bed, alarm bells began to ring as poachers attacked the sanctuary. Ursula ran downstairs, meeting her father by the door, both in their pajamas.

“Ursula, run to the barn and keep the thunderbirds inside calm,” said Ken. He was frantic as he pulled on his boots and grabbed his wand. “Don’t come out.”

Ursula nodded and sprinted off down the dirt path, reaching the barn at the same time as Alice and a man named Will Hayes. The thunderbirds inside were squawking and pacing in their stalls, causing hatchlings to get agitated and mothers to become even more protective of their eggs. She climbed into one of the pens and began to stroke the bird’s head.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispered, even though there was lots of shouting to be heard outside, over the ringing of the alarms and the occasional bang.

The door to the barn opened and in came several ornithologists she recognized, leading a number of thunderbirds to safety. The barns at the sanctuary were more protected than anything else.

Ursula moved to the next stall and got Cleo to lay down with her hatchlings tucked around her. It seemed to take ages as the barn became ever more crowded and the shouting outside didn’t cease. The male thunderbirds were more restless and irritable, yanking on their leads and rearing in the air. Their handlers tried to put them in stalls with their mates or keep them as calm as possible, but the uncertainty and anxiety of the situation made it all the more difficult.

She didn’t know how much time passed before the alarms stopped ringing and the shouts died down, but no one appeared at the barn door to tell them it was over. Eventually,  _ finally _ , the door opened and in came a group of ornithologists, led by Ryker Stevens, the director of the whole sanctuary. Ursula imagined the overcrowded barn was quite a sight and was more than pleased to see her father looking unharmed.

“Well done, everyone,” he said, his voice gravelly. “We caught six poachers and lost no birds, as far as we can tell. Settle ‘em down in here for the night just in case, and then everyone can go back to bed. Y’all did great tonight.”

Some movement started up again as the ornithologists organized the birds into stalls and neat lines. Ursula didn’t move from her spot, where Poppy’s head was in her lap.

“Ursula! Ursula, where are you?”

“Over here dad!” she called.

Ken picked his way over to her, his face pale.

“Are you alright? Did everything in here go okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “But Poppy’s about to lay her eggs.”

The news took a second to register with Ken. He nodded and said, “Oh — okay.” Then he turned around and announced it to the entire barn.

At once a witch named Rachel Sutton joined Ursula in the stall, carrying towels and medical equipment. She called for a bucket of warm water and a sponge, which was provided by Ken. It was a tight fit in the stall as Will Hayes climbed in as well.

Poppy’s head stayed on Ursula’s lap as shudders ran through her. Rachel told Ursula to keep stroking her head as the first egg arrived. It was shiny, about twice the size of a crystal ball, and speckled yellow. Will cleaned it off with the sponge and moved it gently into the nest.

The sky was beginning to turn pink by the time Ken and Ursula finally headed back home. Poppy had successfully delivered eight eggs and was now asleep, curled protectively around her little nest. Ursula yawned widely as they neared the house.

“Go to sleep,” said Ken. “I’m very proud of you.”

Ursula grinned sleepily at him and trudged up the stairs, shutting her curtains to block out the light and immediately falling asleep. It was well after lunch by the time she woke, refreshed and hungry. She got dressed and headed down to the kitchen to find something to eat, and found her father sitting with Tony as well.

“There she is!” said Ken. “I was just telling Tony all about our little escapade this morning.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it ‘little’,” said Tony. “It seems like a pretty big deal and from what I hear, you did well.”

“I didn’t do that much,” said Ursula. “I just helped calm Poppy and the other birds.”

“That’s still very important,” said Ken, as Ursula helped herself to a sandwich. “Tony’s going to stay for dinner since you missed lunch. We have to make the last few days of your visit count.”

In Ursula’s opinion, her whole visit ‘counted’ but Ken and Tony succeeded in making her last few days in America special. They had dinner that night, and on Sunday they went mini golfing where — to Ursula’s immense delight — she won a multicolored stuffed dragon.

“It’s perfect,” said Ken.

“How about some ice cream?” said Tony. Ursula nodded excitedly.

“What’ll y’all have?” asked the vendor.

“Two scoops all around. Butter pecan for me, mint chocolate chip for Ken, and —” Tony turned to Ursula. “What flavor would you like?”

“Strawberry please,” she said.

“And strawberry for this one,” said Tony.

“Are you ready for fourth year?” asked Ken as they sat down to eat their ice cream. “You’ll be halfway through Hogwarts.”

Ursula nodded.

“I’m ready,” she said. “It’ll be a good year.”

“You start Hogwarts at eleven, right?” said Tony. “What do you do before then?”

“I was homeschooled,” said Ken. “Me, my brother, and my cousins were all taught to read and write and do math, stuff like that. A lot of wizards are the same. Some go to Muggle primary schools.”

“I had a governess,” said Ursula. “I shared her with two of my friends. She taught us reading and writing and arithmetic, as well as French, etiquette, fine arts, and history.”

“Did you like your governess?”

“Does anyone?” said Ursula. “No, I liked her, but she was very strict. I like her more now than I did at the time.”

“How fluent are you in French?”

“Je parle très couramment. C’est surtout du français conversationnel,” said Ursula. Translating, she said, “I am very fluent. It’s mostly conversational French.”

“I speak Spanish,” said Tony. “Ha sido un placer pasar tiempo contigo y con Ken. It has been a pleasure spending time with you and Ken.”

“Alas I never learned another language,” said Ken with an amused sigh. “But it is nice to hear you both speak one.”

They had dinner together the next day for one last time at the sanctuary. Ursula helped Ken arrange candles and flowers in the dining room and helped Tony make dinner. When they had finished eating they went outside to look at the stars. The whole evening was beautiful and a great last day.

The next morning, after thorough goodbyes to many of the thunderbirds, Tony drove Ken and Ursula to the airport.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Ursula,” he said. “Have fun at school and I hope to see you again.”

“Goodbye Tony,” said Ursula. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

Surprising him, Ursula gave Tony a quick hug before leaving to join the queue.

“What was that for?” asked Tony.

Ken had a huge grin on his face as he responded, “I think she likes you.”

“I like her too,” said Tony with his own grin. “I’ll see you when you get back, yeah?”

Ken nodded.

“I’ll be back in less than a week, I promise,” he said. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” said Tony. They shared a hug and a kiss before he added, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” said Ken. Then he grabbed his suitcase and followed his daughter through the airport, waving over his shoulder to his boyfriend.


	28. Teatime

“Hello Dobby,” said Ursula as she passed the elf in the hallway. “What have you got there?”

“N-Nothing, Mistress Ursula!” squeaked Dobby, his eyes even larger than usual.

“Alright,” said Ursula, a little surprised by his reaction. He had been acting strange all summer, but she wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed it and she didn’t like to pry.

It was the end of July, nearly two weeks after she had returned from America. Her father had gotten the pictures developed while in England and she couldn’t wait to show them to her friends when they met for tea tomorrow. In the time since her return she’d played an amount of Quidditch that Madam Tripe wouldn’t approve of, and Great Aunt Cassiopeia had even taken her to a Puddlemere United game. A framed — and signed! — photo of her meeting the team hung above her desk and would be coming with her to Hogwarts.

Ursula’s grandfather had recently been diagnosed with dragon pox and she had visited him every day in Corvus Manor. He wasn’t very old, as far as wizards go, and Dimsey and Helgie were taking fine care of him, but dragon pox was a fairly common maladie for the elderly. Cygnus kept requesting to speak with Ursula and filled their time together with stories and knowledge that he thought she should know. Cygnus may have wanted her to be a lady, but he certainly didn’t hold back when it came to telling her about the dark arts. Today was no different.

“After all,” said Cygnus, his voice slightly raspy, “this will all be yours one day, and you must understand what knowledge and power lies in this house.”

Ursula sat in a chair beside his bed, listening to him talk and sipping her tea. Cygnus insisted he was fine, but his family and the Healers from St. Mungo’s disagreed.

“A lady should know of the dark arts,” he continued. “One hopes she would never use such knowledge, but it is important for her to possess it all the same. You, my dear, will make a great lady. Of that I am sure.”

A rattling cough overtook him, and Ursula told the house elves to make sure he got some rest. She promised she would return on Sunday and Flooed back to Malfoy Manor, slightly shaken by tea with her grandfather.

She mentioned none of this on Saturday, when a still-on-edge Dobby Apparated her to Pucey Manor. Adrian lived on a sizable estate outside of Cambridge, surrounded by thick, tall trees. Before Ursula could ring the doorbell the front doors swung open.

“Hey Ursula!”

“Adrian! It’s so good to see you!” said Ursula, giving him a hug.

“Is that Ursula Black?”

Their hug was interrupted by Adrian’s mother Georgina, who seemed overly excited to see her.

“Hello, Mrs. Pucey,” said Ursula, stepping away from Adrian. “How are you?”

“Excellent dear, you’re a doll for asking,” said Georgina. “Call me Georgina. What brings you here?”

“Mother, I invited Ursula, Cassius, and Lilian over to hang out,” said Adrian. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be upstairs. I told Madby to let our friends in and serve tea in the garden.”

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Pucey!” said Ursula as she followed Adrian up the stairs.

“You as well, dear! And call me Georgina!”

They walked through the manor to Adrian’s room, passing through hallways lined with portraits. Adrian’s brother came out of his room as they passed.

“Hello Ursula,” said Lachlan. He was carrying a heavy stack of books. “Adrian said you were coming.”

“Hello Lachlan,” greeted Ursula. “What have you got there?”

“This and that,” said Lachlan. “I want to be prepared for anything. Seventh year is the most important one, you know.”

“Well if you’re not Head Boy I’ll be surprised,” said Ursula. They continued a few doors down to Adrian’s room.

“I swear, he should’ve been a Ravenclaw,” muttered Adrian.

“I don’t know, he seems pretty ambitious to me,” said Ursula. “That’s a key Slytherin trait.”

“You’re right,” said Adrian, flopping down on his bed. “And my mother loves you. ”

“I think your mother loves the idea of us getting together,” said Ursula, sitting down at his desk. “But we’re just friends. Right?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” said Adrian, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. They heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway and a moment later Lilian entered, with Cassius hot on her heels.

“Hey guys!” said Cassius. He and Adrian did their signature handshake, which included a full body flourish at the end. Lilian sat down by the window.

“It’s so good to see you all,” said Lilian. “What shall we do?”

“Well,” said Adrian deviously, rubbing his hands together. “I may have planned ahead. Who’s up for some Quidditch?”

“We can catch up over tea. Quidditch it is!” declared Cassius.

They followed Adrian back downstairs and outside, deciding that as long as they didn’t fly too high no one would notice them.

“Cassius and I versus the two of you,” said Ursula.

“Sounds good,” said Adrian, mounting his broom. They would be playing with only a Quaffle and one short goalpost that Adrian used to practice.

They all followed Adrian into the air and he tossed the Quaffle up. Cassius caught it and passed neatly to Ursula, who in turn threw it through the hoop.

“Damn,” said Lilian, retrieving the Quaffle as Cassius and Ursula high fived. She chucked the Quaffle towards Adrian, who lunged and caught it with the tips of his fingers. He flew around Cassius and scored, pumping his fist in the air in triumph.

“Oh it’s on,” said Cassius.

Over the next hour or so, the four friends had great fun passing and scoring and occasionally committing good-natured fouls against one another. Adrian was the top scoring player, but Ursula and Cassius’s combined goals led them to claim victory and they discovered that Lilian had a certain knack for defending the goal. It was mid afternoon by the time Madby served tea at one of the tables in the shade of the patio cover and the four of them finally spiralled back to the ground.

“I probably won’t make the team,” said Ursula as they put their brooms away.

“Don’t be silly,” scoffed Lilian.

“I’m being realistic,” said Ursula with a shrug. “William Shafiq has been the reserve chaser for the last three years and there hasn’t been a girl on the team since Ismelda Yaxley graduated in our first year.”

“Then it’s high time there was another girl on the team!” said Lilian. “I know you can do it.”

“Thanks Lils,” said Ursula, draping an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “You’re definitely an optimist.”

“And proud of it,” said Lilian with a giggle. They sat down at the table across from the boys as Adrian began to pour the tea. “That’s a pretty fancy teapot you’ve got there.”

“Is it?” said Adrian, looking for the first time at the ornate teapot he was holding as he poured tea into Ursula’s matching cup. “I’ve never thought about it before.”

“How have your summers been?” asked Ursula, stirring sugar into her tea. “Lilian, you went to your grandparents, right?”

Lilian nodded.

“Yeah, it was super fun! My grandma is an amazing baker and we even camped outside one night,” she said. She pulled a photograph from her bag and passed it around. In the picture she, Alice, and Miles were gathered around their grandfather, all smiling from inside a tent.

“That sounds cool!” said Cassius.

“How was France?” asked Adrian.

“Sunny,” said Cassius.

“You do have more of a tan…” said Ursula critically. “Have you grown? Adrian, stand up and compare.”

Indeed, Cassius had grown even more over the summer. He had been the same height as Ursula and Adrian — fairly tall but not too far off from their classmates — but not anymore.

“I hate being the shortest one,” said Lilian grumpily.

“When I was your height —” began Cassius. Ursula giggled.

“Oh, shut up,” said Lilian.

“You guys had fun summers,” complained Adrian. “I mostly stayed here and played Quidditch. Lachlan’s been holed up in his room all summer.”

“How soon after the year ended did he finish his homework?” asked Ursula.

“Two days,” answered Adrian. “How was your trip to America?”

“It was fantastic!” Ursula replied. She pulled a couple pictures from her bag to show them. “The Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary is wonderful — but it’s way,  _ way  _ too hot — and I learned about an internship program they have. I mostly helped my dad or we spent time with his new boyfriend, who’s a  _ Muggle _ .”

The boys gasped.

“Do your aunt and uncle know?” asked Adrian.

“No, and none of you can tell  _ anyone _ ,” said Ursula. “My dad didn’t tell them anything about Tony and neither did I.”

“Does he know you and your father can do magic?” said Cassius.

“My dad told him a few months ago,” answered Ursula. She recounted the whole story and they laughed. “I think Muggles in America are more relaxed about witches and wizards altogether.”

“What’s he like? What does he do?” said Lilian.

“He’s great. I think he and my dad are perfect for each other,” said Ursula. Cassius awwed. “And I’m glad you asked about what he does because I knew you’d be interested: he’s an aerospace engineer. He designs airplanes.”

Lilian gasped.

“And before you ask, I got him to explain lots of things about Muggle technology,” said Ursula. She pulled a stack of papers from her bag. “Here are my notes, plus I told him about your interest and he typed up a whole report for you on a  _ computer _ .”

“Thank you so much!” said Lilian, taking the papers and clutching them to her chest. “I can’t wait to read these!”

“What are thunderbirds like up close?” asked Cassius.

“Well, they can sense danger, so if you’re not friendly or gentle you hopefully won’t get close,” said Ursula. “But once they’ve established that you’re not a threat they’re actually really friendly. I got to ride one.”

“They lay eggs, right?” said Adrian. “Are the hatchlings like baby birds?”

Ursula nodded.

“Exactly,” she said. “One night, a group of poachers attacked the sanctuary — they didn’t get any birds, my dad and the others caught them — but it caused one of the thunderbirds to lay her eggs. They’re a bit bigger than that teapot and are speckled. Once hatched the birds grow pretty fast.”

“America sounds great,” said Cassius. “And you are definitely more interested in magical creatures than anyone I know

“It was awesome,” agreed Ursula, “and I take pride in that.”

“I’m so glad we hung out,” said Lilian. “It made the summer even better.”

They all agreed, draining their cups of tea.

“I guess we’ll see each other in a couple weeks,” said Adrian. “I doubt anything exciting will happen between then and now.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Ursula. “There’s still nearly a month left.”


	29. Heir to the House of Black

“Hello Grandfather,” said Ursula softly. Healer Willis rose and took her leave.

“Ah, hello Ursula dear,” said Cygnus happily. He gestured weakly to the chair beside his bed. “Come, sit.”

Cygnus’s dragon pox had progressed much quicker than expected. Rather than go to St. Mungo’s he insisted upon staying in his home, so instead a healer came to them. He wasn’t contagious, said the healer, but his skin was badly pockmarked and had taken on a greenish hue. Ursula and the others were staying at Corvus Manor to be nearer to him during his illness.

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh…” Cygnus’s voice was raspy. “I’ve been better.” They were both quiet for a moment. “You make me proud.”

Ursula had nothing to say. Those four words alone brought tears to her eyes.

“Ursula,” said Cygnus, his gaze focused on her. Every word was slow and measured. “I am proud to have you as my heir… but even more so to have you as my darling granddaughter.”

“I love you,” gasped Ursula, feeling a lump rise in her throat.

“I love you too, my dear,” said Cygnus. Though his voice was weak, he spoke the words in a tone more affectionate than she had ever heard. “Goodnight Ursula.”

“Goodnight Grandfather,” said Ursula, taking her cue to leave. She paused outside his door, peering back at him, convincing herself everything would be okay as she wiped her eyes and headed for her room.

“Ursula?”

It was Draco, his eyes wide and fearful, the door to his bedroom ajar as he poked his head out.

“Yes?”

“Grandfather’s going to be okay… right? Nothing’s going to happen to him?”

“I hope so, Draco,” said Ursula. “Try and get some sleep, okay? We’ll check on him together in the morning.”

It was technically morning when Dimsey woke Ursula, even though dawn was still far away.

“Mistress Ursula! Mistress Ursula!”

“What is it, Dimsey?”

“It’s Master Cygnus!”

That was all it took for Ursula to leap out of bed. Snatching a dressing gown from her chair she hurried down the hallway, meeting her aunt and uncle and Draco outside her grandfather’s door.

“What happened?” asked Lucius, who seemed to be the only one who could speak.

“His condition has worsened considerably overnight,” said Healer Willis. “I thought you should see him.” They all knew what she meant.  _ Before he dies _ .

The room was dark and stuffy, silent save for the harsh wheeze of Cygnus’s every breath. Draco clutched his father as they neared the bed.

“Father?” said Narcissa tentatively as she sat beside Ursula.

“My… family…” wheezed Cygnus weakly, his eyes half closed. “My… son-in-law… my daughter… my… grandson… my granddaughter… and… my beloved wife…”

“What’s happening?” asked Draco in a terrified whisper. “I don’t like it!”

“You have all… taken… such wonder… wonderful care… of —” a cough seized him and he convulsed. Narcissa let out a strangled sob. “— of me… I… love you… all… Now —” he broke off again, chest rising and falling rapidly. “— take care… of… yourselves…”

His voice gave out but his breathing steadied. Draco cast one last terrified look at him before Lucius steered him out of the room, leaving Narcissa and Ursula alone.

Time ticked by as they sat by Cygnus’s side. He looked worse than he had last night, less and less like the grandfather Ursula knew. But he was still breathing, and still alive. Cygnus gazed weakly at his daughter and his granddaughter, his lips curved in the smallest smile.

He blinked.

His head rolled back on his pillow.

His gaze shifted forward and his eyes glazed over.

“Grandfather?” said Ursula frantically, half rising from her chair. Narcissa’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Grandfather?”

But with that, the last breath left his body and Cygnus Black III moved no more.

Narcissa left the room first, gently tugging Ursula with her, but she didn’t move. She heard voices in the hallway and felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She couldn’t look away from her grandfather’s body.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Ursula rose from her chair. Cygnus’s hands lay folded on his chest, so she gently tugged the bedspread up, the way he always liked it when he sat in bed. With a shaky hand, she closed one eye, and then the other, so that her grandfather looked like he was just resting his eyes after reading. She lifted his glasses off his nose and set them atop the book on his bedside table.

On wobbly legs, Ursula turned and left the room, shock shielding her from her grief.

She emerged into the hallway, letting the door shut softly behind her. Narcissa and Draco cried together, huddled close, but Ursula didn’t join them. She found a little alcove away from the others and there, in the hallway of Corvus Manor, the house that now belonged to her, she let the storm roll in and the tears pour out.

Cygnus’s funeral was held a few days later. In that time, Ursula barely ate. She stayed holed up in her room, her grief all-consuming. She hadn’t realized how much she’d miss her grandfather until he was gone.

People came in and out of the house. Some were relatives, close and distant. Great aunt Cassiopeia came to stay until the funeral was over. Some were friends, coming to pay their respects. On Wednesday, the day after Cygnus’s death, an article announcing it appeared in the Daily Prophet. Several of the visitors were from Gringotts, here to discuss Cygnus’s will and Ursula’s inheritance. Right now, Ursula didn’t care. She didn’t need the house or the money. She’d rather have her grandfather.

The funeral was larger than Druella’s or Walburga’s had been. Cygnus Black III was an important figure among purebloods and had made great donations to the Ministry of Magic, which meant that even Cornelius Fudge came. Ursula didn’t go to pieces this time. She kept her head held high and gracefully accepted the condolences offered to her, the way her grandfather would’ve wanted.

Several of Ursula’s friends were present, and many of those who were not had written telling her how sorry they were for her loss. She appreciated their kindness, but the words were meaningless. Ursula had cried so much in the last few days that she just felt numb.

“Hey,” said a soft voice. She looked up.

“Hello Hadrian.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” said Hadrian Rowle. Ursula just nodded. She’d heard the words a hundred times already. “Would you… like a hug?”

The offer was just what Ursula needed. She hadn’t realized that she’d been shaking all this time until Hadrian gently hugged her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, before letting go.

“Ursula. It’s time,” said Narcissa, her face pale and eyes teary. Hadrian inclined his head to them both before walking away.

“Goodbye Grandfather,” murmured Ursula with a quick glance at the sunny sky, before she followed her aunt down the aisle so the funeral could begin.


	30. Flourish & Blotts

A few days after Cygnus’s funeral, their letters from Hogwarts arrived. Ursula didn’t have much use for Dimsey and Helgie at this point, so while Weesy handed Lucius his newspaper and Draco his letter, Dimsey presented Ursula with hers on a little silver platter. She thanked him and opened it, scanning the list of new books she would need.

_ FOURTH-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE: _

_ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 by Miranda Goshawk _

_ Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Traveling with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Voyages with a Vampire by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart _

_ Year with a Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart _

“Is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Gilderoy Lockhart, by any chance?” asked Ursula, seeing that Draco’s list also contained the complete collection of his books.

“Why yes, I believe he is,” said Lucius. “How did you find out?”

“Nearly the entire list is books he wrote,” said Ursula.

“We’ll go to Diagon Alley next week,” decided Lucius. “Perhaps Wednesday? I have business at Borgin & Burkes. Ursula, make a list of anything of your grandfather’s that you wish to — ah — part with. You may even want to bring an item or two with you.”

“Father, I want a new broom,” said Draco. Lucius pursed his lips.

“I suppose a broom would make a fine gift for your return to Hogwarts,” he said. “Ursula, I think you could do with a new broom as well. A Nimbus Two Thousand or Two Thousand and One, I’d say.”

“I  _ would  _ like a new one,” said Ursula. “I’ll Floo to the manor today to make a list of items. You don’t… you don’t really think the Ministry will raid Corvus Manor, do you?”

“I would be very surprised if they did,” said Lucius. “But one can never be too careful.”

Cygnus and Druella owned a number of questionable items, but her grandfather’s social standing kept him well respected among purebloods and he had long held favor with the Ministry. Ursula never travelled down to the dungeon, too frightened of what might be there, but Cygnus had assured her it was nothing but old curses, and the door was so concealed that she could almost pretend it wasn’t there at all.

Dimsey and Helgie had little to do, so Ursula gave them instructions to keep the house clean and dust free while she was away at Hogwarts, and to tend to the garden. That was the one part of Corvus Manor she felt confident in changing. She still lived at Malfoy Manor of course, but Corvus Manor belonged to her now and no one else.

After breakfast, Ursula Flooed to Corvus Manor and, with the help of her house elves, made a list of anything too dangerous or cursed to keep. Truth be told, the dark artifacts made her curious, and many she kept to see if one day she could change their curses. She kept the poison and potion cupboard locked and protected by magical enchantments, and she saw no reason to part with anything inside. Other than a few pieces of cursed furniture and an object or two simply too evil to be kept in a house, her list amounted to a few pieces of unwearable jewellery and a sinister mirror. She had Dimsey put the jewellery in a briefcase and then Flooed back to Malfoy Manor.

The following Wednesday, Lucius Apparated Draco and Ursula to Diagon Alley, Narcissa having decided to stay behind. Dimsey came as well, tightly clutching the locked briefcase and following close behind Ursula, who was still dressed in mourning black.

“Knockturn Alley first,” said Lucius, leading them down the darker street that branched off from Diagon Alley. Borgin & Burkes wasn’t far down, for which Ursula was grateful.

As they approached, she could almost swear she saw movement inside the shop, but it was empty when they entered. Lucius rang the bell on the counter; the large, black cabinet nearby creaked.

“Touch nothing, Draco,” said Lucius in a cool voice.

Draco, who had reached for the glass eye, said, “I thought you were going to buy me a present.”

“I said I would buy you a racing broom,” said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.

“What’s the good of that if I’m not on the House team?” said Draco, looking sulky and bad tempered. “Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He’s not even that good, it’s just because he’s famous… famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…”

Ursula rolled her eyes and sighed. Draco bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.

“… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick —”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” said Lucius, with a quelling look at his son. “And I would remind you that it is not — prudent — to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear — ah, Mr. Borgin.”

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.

“Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again,” said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. “Miss Black, what a delight — and young Master Malfoy too — charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced —”

“I’m not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling,” said Lucius.

“Selling?” The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin’s face.

“You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids,” said Lucius, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. “I have a few — ah — items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call… my niece has a few items as well…”

Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down at the list. Ursula handed him her own list and had Dimsey set the briefcase on the counter, which Mr. Borgin eyed with interest.

“The Ministry wouldn’t presume to trouble you, sir, surely?”

Lucius’s lip curled.

“I have not been visited yet, and I doubt my niece will be at all. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, as does the name Black, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act — no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it, and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear —”

“I understand, sir, of course,” said Mr. Borgin. “Let me see…”

“Can I have that?” interrupted Draco, pointing to the withered hand on its cushion. Ursula felt a slight surge of annoyance as Mr. Borgin scurried over to Draco. She didn’t like to be in here longer than strictly necessary.

“Ah, the Hand of Glory! Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir.”

“I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin,” said Lucius coldly.

Quickly Mr. Borgin amended, “No offense sir, no offense meant —”

“Though if his grades don’t pick up,” said Lucius, more coldly still, “that may be indeed all he is fit for —”

Now Ursula felt a surge of annoyance towards Lucius. Surely encouragement would help Draco more than insults. Besides, there was nothing wrong with Draco’s grades.

“It’s not my fault,” retorted Draco. “The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger —”

“I would have thought you’d be ashamed that a girl of no wizard blood beat you in every exam,” snapped Lucius. Draco looked both abashed and angry.

“It’s the same all over,” said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. “Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere —”

“Not with me,” said Lucius, nostrils flaring.

“No, sir, nor with me, sir,” said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.

“In that case, perhaps we can return to my list,” said Lucius shortly. “I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today.”

They started to haggle, and when they had finished it was Ursula’s turn. Mr. Borgin examined the jewellery with a keen eye and great interest, and the price she got in exchange was upped after she enquired after one of the silver snuffboxes Mr. Borgin had tried to show them when they entered. It bit the hand of anyone who tried to open it without a key, the lock cleverly concealed on top of the small, round box.

As Mr. Borgin wrapped up her snuffbox, Draco ambled through the store, examining the objects for sale. He paused to examine a long coil of hangman’s rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals.

_ Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed — Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date. _

“Done,” said Lucius before Draco could grab the handle of the large, black cabinet. Ursula handed her package to Dimsey. “Come, Draco —” Draco turned away. “Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I’ll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods.”

Ursula followed Lucius out of the shop. They made their way back through the dingy alleyway, past the window display of shrunken heads opposite Borgin & Burkes and the shop selling poisonous candles, and soon they were back in Diagon Alley.

It took a while to get all the supplies they’d need. Both Draco and Ursula needed new robes and Draco needed more quills. Ursula bought her potions supplies and treats for Betelgeuse before buying a new cage for Agatha. After this purchase she asked Dimsey to take her things back to the manor and then return, which he did happily.

At last they entered Quality Quidditch Supplies and went immediately to look at the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. It was black and silver, with revolving stirrups, and had been released just a couple weeks prior. Ursula definitely wanted one.

“Capable of previously unseen speed and control,” said a voice behind them. Ursula whirled to see a smiling shopkeeper. “A world-class broom. Are you interested in buying one?”

“Yes,” said Lucius. “One for my niece here, to begin with. We’ll see about another…”

“Father…” whined Draco.

Ursula followed the shopkeeper to the back counter.

“Where would you like us to deliver the broom?” he asked cheerfully.

“Malfoy Manor,” said Ursula. “In Wiltshire.”

“Alright, it should be delivered in a day or two. Is there anything else I can get you?”

In addition to the broom, Ursula also purchased a broomstick servicing kit and a new pair of Quidditch gloves.

“What position do you play?” asked the shopkeeper as he wrung up her total. She assured him she could pay and there was no need to disrupt Lucius and Draco, who seemed to be having an argument.

“Chaser,” she answered. He handed her her change and she thanked him. Lucius and Draco were still going back and forth, but she interjected Draco’s whine to say, “I’ll meet you in Flourish & Blotts, yes?”

Ursula felt very strange walking beside Dimsey, but the elf seemed to be enjoying himself. He had been deeply loyal to her grandfather and seemed to have latched onto her in a similar way. She knew Dobby didn’t feel that attachment to the Malfoys, or at least not as greatly.

As they approached Flourish & Blotts, they were met with a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

**GILDEROY LOCKHART**

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30 pm — 4:30 pm

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of middle aged witches. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, “Calmly, please, ladies… Don’t push, there… mind the books, now…”

A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. Ursula squeezed inside and joined the queue, sending Dimsey to grab a copy of the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 and the new Transfiguration book she was interested in. To be honest, she didn’t think Gilderoy Lockhart to be all that impressive, and she found his stories a little far-fetched.

“Still, an autograph might be worth something,” she muttered to herself. She could always trade copies with Vanessa, who would no doubt be a bigger fan than she.

Gilderoy Lockhart slowly came into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard’s hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. A short, irritable looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

Ursula reached the front, gave Lockhart a polite smile, and got her books. At the last second she grabbed a copy of his autobiography, curious to see what someone so pompous would write about himself. She stepped to the side, handing half of her books to Dimsey as she fumbled to hold them all.

“It can’t be Harry Potter?” said Lockhart, positively shouting as he leapt to his feet and practically dove towards where the Weasleys were standing. Harry looked mightily uncomfortable as Lockhart dragged him forward and the photographer clicked away, the crowd cheering. When it seemed like he might be able to escape, Lockhart only held on to him tighter as he waved to the crowd to quiet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Lockhart loudly. “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make an announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time!”

He paused to make sure he had the crowd’s full attention.

“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish & Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —” The crowd applauded again. “— He had no idea,” Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake, “that he would soon be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

“Rubbish,” muttered Ursula, as the crowd cheered and clapped. “Absolute rubbish.”

“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” said Fred, appearing in front of her.

“Hello Black,” added George, materializing out of the crowd at her side.

“Hello boys,” said Ursula. “Had a good summer?”

“It was fine,” said Fred.

“A few adventures —”

“Some Quidditch —”

“And of course some mischief,” finished George. Ursula laughed. Their expressions grew more serious.

“We’re, uh, sorry about your grandpa,” said Fred.

“We saw the announcement in the paper,” said George.

“Thanks,” said Ursula, her smile turning sad. “It was — uh oh.”

Ursula caught sight of Draco at the front of the shop, sneering at Harry and Ginny.

“Come on,” she said to the twins. “There’s bound to be trouble.”

They pushed their way through the crowd, arriving just in time to hear Draco say, “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for those.”

“Draco!” gasped Ursula. “That was a terrible thing to say!”

Ron had gone red, and the only thing stopping him from attacking Draco was Harry and Hermione holding onto his jacket.

“Ron!” It was Mr. Weasley, struggling over. “What are you doing? It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside.”

“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley.”

Lucius stood with his hand on Draco’s shoulder, sneering just like his son. The tension around them rose considerably as Lucius and Arthur stared at each other.

“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear,” said Lucius. Ursula didn’t like the tone of his voice. “All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime.”

He reached into Ginny’s cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.

“Obviously not,” said Lucius silkily. “Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny. Ursula looked away in embarrassment.

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” said Mr. Weasley.

“Clearly,” said Lucius, his pale eyes straying to a couple nearby who Ursula guessed were Hermione’s parents. “The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower —”

There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Lucius, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; Ursula pulled Dimsey out of harm’s way; there was a yell of, “Get him, dad!” from Fred and George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!”; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please — please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all —

“Break it up there, gents, break it up —”

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Arthur and Lucius apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Lucius had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny’s old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

“Here, girl — take your book — it’s the best your father can give you —”

Pulling himself out of Hagrid’s grip he beckoned to Draco and Ursula and swept from the shop, leaving them no choice but to follow. Ursula cast an apologetic look at the Weasleys, mouthing  _ I’m sorry _ to the twins.

Lucius was furious, and a public brawl without magic was unbecoming of a Malfoy. He Apparated Draco home and Dimsey Apparated Ursula.

“How was your trip?” asked Narcissa warily, as Draco stomped up the stairs.

“It would have been fine, if not for Arthur Weasley and his brood,” snapped Lucius, before flouncing up the stairs in much the same way as his son.

“Thank you Dimsey,” said Ursula, taking the other half of her books from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes Mistress Ursula,” said Dimsey. He was smiling, and the fight had done nothing to diminish his enjoyment of the trip, Ursula was glad to see. He Disapparated and Ursula turned to her aunt.

“The trip was, for the most part, fun,” she said. “Draco insulted the Weasleys at Flourish & Blotts and then Uncle Lucius and Mr. Weasley got into a brawl.”

Narcissa gasped.

“No wonder he was so upset,” she said. “But you had fun?”

Ursula nodded. It was the first day she had enjoyed herself since Cygnus’s death.

“I’m glad,” said Narcissa.


	31. Broomsticks

The ride on the Hogwarts Express began with a mess of condolences from Ursula’s friends. After assuring them that she was doing fine and insisting that they change the topic, she got a chance to show them her new broom. Around mid-afternoon Ursula and Lilian went to the bathroom to change into their school uniforms and on the way back to their compartment Ursula caught sight of something — or, rather,  _ someone  _ — that made her pause.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said to Lilian.

Ursula slid open the door of the compartment, which was occupied only by a very excited young boy and a small girl with white blonde hair and, strangely, radish earrings. The two were keeping up a steady stream of conversation and both held copies of a strange looking magazine called  _ The Quibbler _ .

“Ursula!” said the boy happily, looking up at her as she entered.

“Hello Leon,” said Ursula. It was her cousin’s first year, and she wanted to make sure he was doing alright. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Luna,” said Leon.

“We were discussing Wrackspurts!” added Luna in a cheery voice.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” said Ursula, amused. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing, Leon. Have fun.”

“We will!” said Leon. “Bye Ursula!”

Smiling to herself, Ursula returned to her compartment and explained the reason for her delay to her friends. The rest of the train ride passed smoothly, and soon enough the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station.

Ursula froze as they neared the carriages. Noticing her expression, her friends stopped as well.

“You can see them now, can’t you?” said Lilian in a hushed voice. Ursula nodded, forcing herself to keep walking, her eyes never leaving the thestrals in front of them. Lilian couldn’t see them, and nor could Cassius or Adrian, but Ursula could.

She thought they were beautiful, in an eerie, sinister way. Their black coats clung to their skeletons, every bone visible, and their heads were dragonish and held high. Their eyes were pupil-less and white and wings sprouted from each wither — vast, black leathery wings that ought to have belonged to giant bats. They stood still and quiet in the gloom.

As Ursula climbed into the carriage she knew her friends stared at her apprehensively, but she didn’t want their pity.

“Your brother’s Head Boy, right Adrian?” said Ursula, redirecting the conversation as the carriage began to move.

“Yeah, he put the badge on as soon as he got it and hasn’t taken it off since,” Adrian replied.

Soon enough they reached the school and entered the Great Hall, where innumerable candles hovered in midair over four long tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outsided, sparkled with stars. Once everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall brought in the first years and the Sorting Hat began to sing.

“Where’s Professor Snape?” whispered Lilian, pointing discreetly to the staff table. Ursula looked to where she was pointing.

There was Professor Dumbledore, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along was Gilderoy Lockhart dressed in robes of aquamarine. Hagrid was seated at the end, drinking deeply from his goblet. But Lilian was right; there was an empty seat and Professor Snape was nowhere to be seen.

By now the sorting had begun, with Professor McGonagall calling out, “Ash, Honey!”

Blossom’s equally small and blonde sister stumbled nervously up to the stool and put the Sorting Hat, which fell clear over her eyes.

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Bailey, Max!”

This year had an especially high number of the siblings of students in Ursula’s year, particularly among the Slytherins. Luca’s brother Max went to Hufflepuff, Henry was sorted into Slytherin like Edward, and Quinn Brooks joined her sister Tilly in Gryffindor.

“Carlyle, Emily!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

Philip whistled as his sister sat at the end of the table, followed shortly by both Flora and Hestia Carrow. Ursula was surprised to see Hazel Clarke, the younger sister of Jasper, a muggleborn in her year, in line, as it was unusual for Muggle families to have more than one magical child, but was not surprised when she joined her brother in Hufflepuff.

A small, mousy haired boy named Colin Creevey perched himself on the stool and after a moment the Hat declared him a Gryffindor.

“Him? A Gryffindor? He’s so tiny!” whispered Cassius.

Angelina Johnson’s sister Loraine was sorted into Gryffindor and Luna Lovegood, the girl Leon had made friends with on the train, was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Finally, Professor McGonagall called, “Scamander, Leon!”

Ursula saw Rolf Scamander, a slightly more distant cousin, perk up at the Hufflepuff table as Leon walked with trepidation up to be sorted.

“RAVENCLAW!” declared the Sorting Hat.

Beaming like mad, Leon gave the Hat back to Professor McGonagall and hurried to sit beside Luna at the Ravenclaw table.

“Selwyn, Charlotte!” and “Shafiq, Oliver!” were sorted into Slytherin, to the delight of Jacob and Vanessa respectively. The line was dwindling down now, and after Cassius’s brother Marcellus was sorted — into Slytherin, obviously — it was Ginny Weasley’s turn.

“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the Hat without a moment of hesitation. Fred and George whistled and cheered as loud as they could as Ginny sat down at the red and gold table.

The sorting ended with Alexander’s brother Jonathan squeezing into the seat beside Marcellus, and at once food filled the golden plates in front of them.

“Now where are they going?” asked Lilian, pointing again to the high table. Professor Snape had returned with a gloating smile on his face, but he was only there to fetch Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, who followed him out of the hall with much more serious expressions.

“What’s that all about?” asked Adrian through a mouthful of chicken.

They didn’t get an answer, not when the three teachers returned, with Professor Snape looking considerably less pleased. Rumors began to circulate from table to table — it seemed as though Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had crashed a flying car into the Whomping Willow, which explained their absence from the feast, something Draco had been all too quick to point out. Further down the Slytherin table, Draco was gloating, but Ursula doubted Snape would’ve looked this upset had they been expelled.

The Gryffindors were buzzing with the story by breakfast the next morning, and by mailtime it was clear what had happened. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling which today was a dull, cloudy grey. Ursula was enjoying her porridge and reading the Daily Prophet when an ear splitting shriek erupted from across the hall.

“ _ — STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE — _ ”

Mrs. Weasley’s yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. Everyone turned to stare at the recipient of the Howler, causing Ron to sink so low that only his flaming red hair could be seen.

“ _ — LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD’VE BOTH DIED — _ ”

Ursula plugged her ears as the yelling continued.

“ _ — ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME! _ ”

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope burst into flames and curled into ashes. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again. Ursula went back to her porridge.

“What a great way to start the day,” said Cassius sweetly. Lilian tossed a muffin at him.

Not long after, Professor Snape came down the Slytherin table to pass out schedules, and Ursula was pleased to see Transfiguration as the first class of the day. She and the others gathered their stuff — Cassius was just finishing the muffin Lilian had thrown at him — and headed off to class.

It was during first period on Friday that the fourth years got their first taste of Professor Lockhart, one perhaps more sour than sweet. The classroom slowly filled with students, some yawning or still finishing their breakfast, and finally the bell rang.

“Oh,” said Professor Lockhart, trying and failing to act surprised to see them there as he emerged from his office. “Hello there.”

Ursula rolled her eyes. His entrance didn’t have its desired effect on the fourth years, who just stared at him.

“It’s me,” continued Professor Lockhart, winking at the picture of himself on the cover of Angelina’s textbook. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award — but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!”

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly and Vanessa let out a high pitched giggle.

“I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in —”

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, “You have thirty minutes — start — now!”

“This is ridiculous,” Ursula muttered, looking down at her paper.

  * _What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?_


  * What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?


  * What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?



On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

  * _When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_



Ursula almost wrote ‘humility’ but changed her mind and wrote ‘a self portrait’ instead. Half an hour later, Professor Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

“Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac, as I say in  _ Year with a Yeti _ . I clearly state in chapter twelve of  _ Wanderings with Werewolves _ that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples — though a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey wouldn’t go amiss!”

He gave them another roguish wink. Ursula stared at him incredulously. On her right, Fred and George were shaking with silent laughter while on her left, Vanessa listened to Professor Lockhart with an expression of admiration on her face.

“It seems Miss Gemma Farley came the closest to perfection — only one question missed — where is Miss Gemma Farley?”

Gemma raised her hand smugly.

“Well done!” said Professor Lockhart happily. “Ten points to Slytherin! As for the question you missed, my secret ambition is to rid the world of all evil and market my own range of hair-care potions —” at this, Fred and George couldn’t contain their laughter any longer “— but Miss Ursula Black knew that! Where is she?”

Ursula raised a stunned hand.

“Excellent!” beamed Professor Lockhart. “Good girl! Another ten points to Slytherin.”

Gemma’s smug look had been replaced with one of irritation and she wore a deep scowl for the rest of class.

“How’d you know, Black?” asked Fred when the bell rang.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to memorize his books,” said George.

“I didn’t,” said Ursula. “I guessed.”

“You  _ guessed _ ?” they chorused incredulously.

“With a guy that pompous, his answer had to be ridiculous,” explained Ursula. “And with his obsession over his appearance —” Fred and George were shaking their heads in wonderment.

“Ingenious,” said Fred.

“It was just a lucky guess,” Ursula said.

“A very lucky guess,” added Gemma in a flat tone, coming up beside Ursula.

“Yes,” said Ursula coolly. Gemma’s competitive spirit was coming out already. If this was how she reacted over Lockhart’s silly test, their academic rivalry was going to be more intense than last year. “A very lucky guess.”

Ursula’s last class of the day was Arithmancy, and as soon as the bell rang she headed down to her dorm to change and grab her broom, and then out to the Quidditch Pitch with Adrian for tryouts before dinner.

There were three people trying out to be the keeper and seven competing to fill one chaser spot and the reserve. Ursula was the only girl among both groups. All the guys trying out to be a chaser were bigger, taller, and older than her, and try as she might she was very nervous. Lilian, Vanessa, and Cassius sat in the stands to watch. Ursula knew if she wanted to make it onto the team she couldn’t be as good as her competition; she needed to blow them clear out of the water.

Flint had each of the prospective chasers take turns attempting to score on the keepers. Ursula scored on all three, but so did William Shafiq, her main competition. It didn’t take long for Miles Bletchley to be declared the new keeper and Malcolm Greengrass once again the reserve. Flint eliminated one chaser for failing to make a single shot.

The chasers’ first test was flying, weaving in and out of the goalposts and rounding corners at top speed. Ursula excelled, her top of the line broom and light frame propelling her to the front of the pack, to the point where she had a sizable lead on the others. She landed first in front of Flint, windswept but secretly triumphant. The last to land was eliminated.

Their next test was passing the ball as three of them flew a complicated figure eight at a time. It was tough, hard to remember who to pass to and where to fly next, but Ursula kept her head and made clean passes. Once this drill ended and a seventh year was cut, only Ursula, William, a sixth year named Gregory Shaw, and a fifth year named Peter Parkinson remained. They each tried five times to score on Bletchley, with William making all five shots, Ursula and Gregory four each, and Peter only two.

Ursula cursed herself when Bletchley blocked her shot, knowing that she would have to perform spectacularly if she wanted to beat William.

“Need any help, Black?” he called cockily. Ursula blocked him out and her remaining two shots were delivered perfectly.

Ursula didn’t expect Flint to go easy on her. In fact, she thought he was harder on her than anyone else. He played no favorites, however, for which she was thankful. It meant she still had a shot.

And with each elimination, her shot got a lot more certain.

At last Gregory Shaw was eliminated for fumbling the Quaffle one too many times, and it was down to just Ursula and William. He may have had the advantage of strength, but she had the advantage of speed.

“I want to see skill,” said Flint. “Pucey is there for you to pass to, and I’ve told the beaters to give you everything they’ve got.” He blew his whistle and tossed the Quaffle upward.

Ursula snatched it out of the air and wheeled around, passing the Quaffle to Adrian. She dodged a Bludger, caught his return pass, and tossed it through the right hoop. Bletchley threw the Quaffle back into play and Ursula scored a second time before William got his hands on the ball.

It was a fierce competition. Ursula was better at dodging Bludgers than William, but his broad, sturdy frame meant he didn’t get as injured when he was hit. He had improved a lot since last year, and she could tell he wanted this just as much as she did. Below she saw Flint check his watch, and she knew he would end tryouts soon so they could have dinner.

William scored again, and Ursula took possession of the Quaffle. She soared across the pitch, the Quaffle tucked under her arm, her path unobstructed. She was almost at the scoring area, her eyes focused on the left hoop, and then —

A Bludger hit by Peregrine Derrick smashed into her shoulder, causing her to slow down and the Quaffle to slip from her grasp. She fumbled, reaching for it, but the damage was done. William dove in pursuit of the ball and with it in his possession, her hopes of being a chaser were surely dashed.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Ursula held tight to her broom and sped forward, flying straight at William’s back. Lucian Bole hit a Bludger at her and it was hot on her tail as she flew nearer and nearer to him, and he flew closer and closer to the goal. At the last second before she would’ve crashed into him and the Bludger into her, his arm raised and ready to throw the Quaffle, she dove.

The Bludger hit him square in the back, nearly unseating him and causing him to lose his grip on the Quaffle. He fumbled for it, but Ursula swooped up and caught it, tossing the Quaffle past Bletchley and neatly through the center hoop. Her friends cheered.

Flint blew his whistle.

“Alright Black,” he said, once she and William had returned to earth. “You’re on the team. Shafiq, you’re the reserve.”

William had gone purple with rage. He looked like he wanted to hex Ursula into oblivion. She smiled sweetly at him and said, “You played well.”

“You better watch your back,” he growled, stomping off.

“He’s right,” said a voice behind her. She whirled around to see Lucian Bole, his beater’s bat tucked under one arm. “I wouldn’t put it past him to jinx you if it meant he was on the team.”

“I’m not scared of him,” said Ursula, elated from her victory.

“Nor should you be,” said Lucian, smiling at her. “In fact, I’d almost warn him to watch his back.”

“Because a bludger might hit him?” asked Ursula, amused.

“Exactly.” They both laughed. “You flew well out there, Black.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula.

“Welcome to the team.”

The players left the pitch. Ursula saw her friends make their way down from the stands to meet her.

“What do you want, kid?” Ursula heard Flint say, stopping at the entrance to the pitch. The rest of the team gathered around to see what was the matter.

Ursula was shocked to see Draco, standing with his broom and a pile of identical ones, looking incredibly smug.

“To be the new seeker,” said Draco. Flint and the others laughed.

“Tryouts are over,” he said. “We don’t need a new seeker.”

“How about new brooms?”

That caught Flint’s attention.

“My father bought these brand new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones as a gift for the Slytherin Quidditch Team,” said Draco. “If you make me the Slytherin seeker, the brooms are yours.”

Flint didn’t hesitate.

“Deal,” he said. “Higgs, you’re now the reserve.”

Terence’s shoulders slumped, his expression a mixture of shock and dismay. Ursula knew her cousin wanted to be on the team, but she wasn’t sure if he was good enough, and buying his way in felt wrong.

“You’re Malfoy, right?” said Flint, picking up one of the brooms and admiring it.

Draco nodded eagerly.

“Draco Malfoy,” he said.

“I’ll see how you fly tomorrow,” said Flint. “I’ll talk to Snape about getting the pitch.”

“What just happened?” asked Lilian after thoroughly congratulating Ursula. She, Cassius, and Vanessa joined Adrian, Ursula, and Terence on their trek back to the castle. “I mean, Flint can’t just kick you off the team! It’s not fair!”

“It is what it is,” said Terence defeatedly. He was resigned about his situation. “At least I get a new broom.”

Lilian’s steady stream of anger continued all the way to the Great Hall, accompanied by agreements from the others. She seemed a lot more up in arms about the situation than Terence was, considering it was he who had been kicked off the main team. The delicious feast put an end to the conversation, and Ursula felt quite proud of herself.

The next morning after an early breakfast, the Slytherin team, except for the reserve players, trooped down to the Quidditch Pitch to practice. As they walked onto the pitch, broomsticks in hand, however, they saw that it was already occupied by the Gryffindors. Ursula didn’t like the ugly, smug look on Flint’s face.

The Gryffindors landed quickly, some (Oliver Wood) very angrily, and stomped over to the Slytherins.

“Flint!” Wood bellowed. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.”

The Slytherins stood shoulder to shoulder facing the Gryffindors. Ursula wasn’t short, but the rest of the team — with the exception of Draco — was taller and far more muscular. Ursula’s expression was cold, and contributed to the tough glares from the rest of the team. She felt bad for the Gryffindors — this was an underhanded move and an obvious way to show off their new brooms — but she had to be a team player here, to keep proving to Flint that she deserved her place on the team.

“But I booked the field!” said Wood, positively spitting with rage. “I booked it!”

“Ah,” said Flint. “But I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘ _ I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new seeker _ .’”

Ursula thought this was a little rich. They also had a new chaser and a new keeper, but Draco was the one who had given them the brooms.

“You’ve got a new seeker?” said Wood, distracted. “Where? What happened to Higgs?”

From behind the six figures came Draco, his pointed face drawn into a smirk.

“Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” said Fred, looking at Draco with great dislike.

“Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” said Flint. He and the rest of the team were smiling broadly now. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.”

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. It didn’t matter that Ursula’s broom hadn’t been from Lucius; it was virtually indistinguishable from the others and the detail was irrelevant to the Gryffindors. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine silver lettering spelling  _ Nimbus 2001 _ gleamed under the Gryffindors’ noses in the early morning sun.

“Very latest model. Only came out last month,” said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from his own. “I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps —” he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives “— it sweeps the board with them.”

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment.

“Oh, look,” said Flint. “A field invasion.”

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

“What’s happening?” Ron asked, directing his question to Harry. “Why aren’t you playing? And what’s  _ he  _ doing here?”

He cast a dark glance at Draco, who Ursula had to admit was acting like a pompous brat.

“I’m the new Slytherin seeker, Weasley,” said Draco smugly. “Everyone’s just been admiring the brooms my father’s bought our team.”

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

“Good, aren’t they?” said Draco smoothly. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.”

Several of the Slytherin players howled with laughter, a bit of an exaggeration considering the joke’s lack of humor, not to mention its rudeness. Ursula elbowed Adrian in the side to get him to stop.

“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,” said Hermione sharply. “They got in on pure talent.”

As far as cutting comments went, Hermione had bested Draco. His smug look flickered.

“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat.

There was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Draco to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, “How dare you?”, and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelled, “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!” and pointed it furiously under Flint’s arm at Draco’s face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron’s wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

“Ron! Ron! Are you alright?” squealed Hermione.

Instead of words, Ron gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

While Ursula’s breakfast was rising in her throat, the rest of the team howled with laughter. Flint was doubled over, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Draco was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. It was comical but disgusting.

Eventually Harry and Hermione hauled Ron to his feet and led him away, trailing slugs in their wake. Without a seeker, the rest of the Gryffindor team angrily turned the field over to the Slytherins, who took some time to recover.

“Alright,” said Flint at last, wiping his eyes. “Let’s get to work. It’s time to see what Malfoy here’s made of.”


	32. The Writing on the Wall

October rolled in, accompanied by a damp chill that covered the grounds and infiltrated the castle. Madam Pomfrey was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Though her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards. Enormous raindrops pounded on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.

The Slytherin team’s new brooms allowed them to shoot through the air at top speed. Practices left them drenched to the skin and splattered with mud, but were exhilarating all the same. To lesson the arduous task, although not by much, of cleaning the mud from her hair, Ursula’s skill at braiding had improved considerably. Three nights a week she trudged back to the common room after practice, unwound her elaborate braid, and cleaned the mud from her curls.

It was after one such muddy practice that she had stayed behind in the changing room to clean and polish her broom, and she was surprised to see Adrian wait for her, as he had no reason to.

“Hey,” she said, storing her broom away. “What are you still doing here?”

“I, uh…” said Adrian awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Alright,” said Ursula, trying to coax him into continuing. “What do you want to talk about?”

He rubbed the back of his head and avoided her gaze.

“I want to ask you something.”

She waited for him to go on.

“So there’s a Hogsmeade trip on… on Halloween… would you maybe want to go… with me?” he said at last, looking at her both hopefully and fearfully. She was speechless for a moment.

“Like on a date?” Ursula asked, a blush rising to her cheeks. It took a lot to make her blush, but this did it.

Adrian nodded.

“Um… sure,” she said. “That would be fun.”

His face lit up.

“Are you sure?”

Ursula laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

They both looked out at the rain that stood between them and the castle.

“Should we run for it?” said Adrian.

“Definitely,” Ursula replied.

They sprinted across the lawn, the rain pelting them furiously, until they reached the castle, laughing and soaking wet.

“At least the rain washed some of the mud off,” said Ursula, wiping her eyes.

In silence they descended the stairs, leaving a trail of wet footprints and both grinning as they headed for the common room. Ursula went straight to her dorm to shower and then finish her homework while she brushed her hair. Gemma was hard at work on an essay for Professor Snape, and she barely spared Ursula a glance when she entered.

A series of sharp, incessant raps sounded on the door of their dorm some time later and Ursula opened it to reveal Lilian, her eyes frantic and a beaming grin stretched across her face. She grabbed Ursula’s arm and yanked her out of the dorm before Ursula could even ask what was going on.

“What is it?” asked Ursula, as Lilian shoved her into her own dorm.

“What is it?  _ What is it _ ?” hissed Lilian. “Adrian asked you on a date and you didn’t tell me?”

“It happened, like, an hour ago,” said Ursula. “How did you find out?”

“Adrian told Cassius the second the two of you got back, obviously,” said Lilian. “And Cassius told me.”

“He better not have told anyone else,” said Ursula.

“That doesn’t matter,” said Lilian with a wave of her hand. “You need to tell me everything,  _ now _ . How did he ask you? Where are you going? What will you wear?”

“I thought Cassius told you!”

“He only told me that the date existed!” said Lilian. “He’s useless when it comes to details.”

Ursula sighed.

“Alright, fine,” she said. “But it’s not that exciting. He waited for me after practice —”

“Aww!” said Lilian.

“I’m not even to the good part yet!” protested Ursula. “He was really awkward and it took him a minute to actually ask me, and when I said yes he asked me if I was sure.”

Lilian laughed.

“It was all very sweet,” said Ursula. “As for your other questions, we’re going to Hogsmeade together on Halloween, no I don’t know what I’m going to wear, yes you can help me choose.”

“Good,” said Lilian. “Because I have so many ideas.”

October only got muddier as the days wore on, and Ursula was worried there would be bad weather for her date. Vanessa had freaked out even more than Lilian when she’d found out, and Ursula had to endure a week of teasing from them both. Halloween dawned and miraculously the rain relented, leaving a muddy but nevertheless pleasant day ahead.

Ursula’s hair and outfit had been approved by Lilian and Vanessa, although the latter had pushed for something more girly — a skirt was girly enough, Ursula protested, and pink was not a Halloween color — and she met Adrian in the Entrance Hall at midmorning.

“Er, hi,” he said.

“Hello,” she replied.

“You look nice,” said Adrian.

“Thank you,” Ursula replied. “So do you.”

Both were keenly aware of their friends, who stood barely three feet away and watched them with eager grins. Ursula made a shooing gesture with her hands before accompanying Adrian outside, where she was instantly grateful for the sweater she had worn. They walked in awkward silence for several minutes, before at last Ursula spoke.

“Let’s just keep it casual, yeah?” she said. “It’s a date, but if it’s this awkward the whole time neither of us are going to enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” said Adrian, already relaxing. “That sounds like a great plan.”

“Practice has been going well,” said Ursula, figuring she might as well begin the conversation. “I think we’re ready for the match against Gryffindor next week.”

“They are our biggest rivals,” said Adrian. “But we’re ready. And with our new brooms, we can’t lose.”

“Now you’ve jinxed us,” joked Ursula.

“I hope not,” said Adrian with a laugh.

Soon they arrived in Hogsmeade, where they went first into Tomes and Scrolls upon Ursula’s request. Adrian gave her time to browse, even picking up a book or two to look through, and they kept up a steady stream of conversation. Ursula found the volume she was looking for — a large, dusty book about household charms that included protective enchantments — and bought it.

The next place they went was Dervish and Banges, where they discussed their favorite Quidditch teams — Ursula’s was Puddlemere United, Adrian’s the Tutshill Tornado — while Adrian bought a new set of glass phials for Potions. They popped into Zonko’s Joke Shop and Spintwitches Sporting Goods to browse briefly, and then they headed to Honeydukes, crowded as ever.

Ursula picked out a few of her favorite sweets — sugar quills, chocoballs, pink coconut ice, and of course some of Honeydukes’ best chocolate — while Adrian got a large box of chocolate frogs and some fizzing whizzbees.

“I’ll pay,” said Adrian, as they joined the line leading up to the counter.

“It’s alright, I can pay for my own,” said Ursula.

“Isn’t it my job to pay for things, though?” protested Adrian.

Ursula pursed her lips. This wasn’t an argument worth having.

“How about I pay for my sweets, and you buy us butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks?” she suggested.

“Okay,” said Adrian, relenting. “Sounds good.”

They paid and crossed the street to the Three Broomsticks, which was warm and inviting on the chilly fall day. Adrian ordered and they sat down, and that was when they spotted a few very familiar faces at the window.

Cassius, Lilian, and Vanessa were peering in, their faces practically pressed against the glass. Ursula gave a cheery wave and hastily Lilian and Vanessa ducked down out of view; Cassius waved back. After a moment the door of the Three Broomsticks opened and their three friends entered. Cassius went to the bar, obviously trying — and failing — to be inconspicuous while Lilian and Vanessa headed for the bathroom, shooting clear glances at Ursula the whole way.

Ursula rolled her eyes and excused herself, following her friends.

“Fancy seeing y’all here,” said Ursula, crossing her arms as she entered the bathroom. Vanessa wrinkled her nose at the use of the vernacular contraction.

“How’s your date going?” said Lilian, without the slightest trace of embarrassment. Ursula gave a small grin and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Ooh!” squealed Vanessa. “It’s going great, isn’t it?”

“She didn’t say anything!” said Lilian. “Don’t tell me your governess taught you how to read body language?”

“Yes, it’s going great, and yes, actually, she did,” said Ursula. “It’s really fun. I’m having a good time.”

“Do you think you might… go on another date?” suggested Vanessa. Ursula nodded and she clapped her hands together excitedly.

“How long have you been following us?” asked Ursula.

“Not… long,” said Lilian slowly. “We waited to leave to give you guys time alone. We first saw you in Dervish and Banges and we started spying on you in Honeydukes.”

“You should’ve gone to Madam Puddifoot’s,” said Vanessa. “It’s much more romantic.”

“Well the Three Broomsticks is much less awkward,” responded Ursula. “Now that you’ve been caught spying, will you please leave us be?”

Her friends agreed, and Ursula promised to tell them more about the date later.

“How were we at spying?” asked Lilian as they exited the bathroom.

“Terrible,” said Ursula. “Absolutely terrible. Cassius was the worst of all of you.”

Vanessa giggled.

“Have fun on the rest of your date!” she said, following Lilian to the door. Cassius had clearly been talking to Adrian, because when Ursula returned he walked quickly away to follow the girls. Ursula shook her head fondly and sat down just as their drinks arrived.

“So,” said Adrian, taking a sip of his drink.

“So,” replied Ursula, doing the same.

“Our friends really tried to spy on us, huh?”

“Give them a break,” said Ursula. “It’s a little exciting, isn’t it?”

“What? Us?” asked Adrian. “I guess we are the first in our year to, um, go on a date.”

Ursula shook her head.

“No, we’re not,” she said. “Aiden Gardner and Keira McDaniel had a study date three weeks ago, Madeline Ormskirk and Marcus Turner went on one date at the end of last year — it did not go well — and Caoimhe Ryan and Jack Foxx are on a date right now.”

“Wow,” said Adrian. “You make a better spy than our friends.”

“It’s just gossip,” said Ursula. “It’s not hard to find.”

“You said us going on a date was exciting,” said Adrian. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am,” Ursula replied. She took a long sip of her butterbeer. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” said Adrian, smiling wider. “I really am. Would you like to go on another one?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “I really would.”

When they had finished their drinks they decided it was time to wind their way back to Hogwarts. They gathered up their purchases and strolled down the street and out of Hogsmeade, discussing the Shrieking Shack as they viewed it from a distance.

“I mean, the villagers say it’s haunted but no one’s heard any screaming for more than a decade,” said Adrian.

“Exactly,” said Ursula. “How haunted can — oh!”

She slipped in the mud, nearly falling, only saved by Adrian’s hand. He had reached out and grabbed her hand just in time when she started to slip.

Ursula looked at him, and then at their hands. They both blushed, but neither let go.

“Thanks,” she said, her heart beating strangely fast.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his face burning.

They finished their walk largely in silence, each content to smile about the success of their date. As promised, Ursula shared more details with Lilian and Vanessa — both squealed loud enough to stir Betelguese when she got to the part where they held hands — and then they all went to enjoy the Halloween Feast. The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, and Hagrid’s vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three people to sit in. Ursula knew this because Fred, George, and Lee had actually climbed into one to find out.

All was going swimmingly, but as the feast ended and students spilled out into the corridor, all of that changed.

The chatter, the bustle, and the noise died suddenly as everyone spotted Mrs. Norris, hanging stiff as a board from the torch bracket, and the foot-high letters crossing the wall behind her.

_ THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. _

_ ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. _

Ursula’s blood ran cold as she stared at the grisly sight. Her euphoria from her date and enjoyment of the feast was gone, replaced by blank shock and horror. And in the middle of it all, standing in a pool of water, was Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“‘ _ Enemies of the Heir, beware _ !’ You’ll be next, Mudbloods!”

The shout came from Draco, his pale face flushed and grinning at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. Ursula wanted to scold him, but like everyone else she just stood and stared. She could only hope the message was written in paint and not blood.


	33. The Rogue Bludger

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone’s minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. They had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn’t guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like ‘breathing loudly’ and ‘looking happy.’

The Chamber of Secrets was a similarly popular conversation topic, and those without their own copies of  _ Hogwarts: A History _ had to rely on those who did to learn the legend. An even greater shroud of suspicion than usual fell on the Slytherins, even though many of them had never even heard of the Chamber of Secrets.

Ursula had, and she had her copy of the book at school, so she summarized the story for her friends.

“Salazar Slytherin wanted to keep magic in families who were all-magical,” she said Wednesday at breakfast. “He didn’t want to teach anyone with Muggle parents because he didn’t think they could be trusted. The story goes that he built a secret chamber that only his heir would be able to open. The heir would come to Hogwarts, unleash the so-called ‘horror within’, and purge the school of everyone Slytherin believed to be ‘unworthy.’”

“Nothing’s ever been found, right?” said Vanessa anxiously.

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t out there,” said Jacob. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt us. Let’s face it, Hogwarts’ standards  _ have  _ seriously been falling. It wouldn’t hurt to —”

“To what? To kill people? ‘Purge the school’?” said Lilian furiously. Ursula laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Attacking muggleborns is a bit extreme,” said Gemma.

“More than a bit!” said Cassius.

“There’s no proof the Chamber even exists, right?” said Adrian. The others nodded reluctantly. Ursula bit her lip. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Breakfast ended and they climbed the stairs to Transfiguration. Adrian slowed to walk with Ursula, who was deep in thought.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he noted. “Is anything wrong?”

She debated for a moment on whether or not to tell him.

“Don’t tell the others,” she began, pulling his arm to slow him down and distance themselves further from the rest of the Slytherins, “but the Chamber exists. It’s been opened before.”

“What?” exclaimed Adrian loudly. Ursula shushed him and he lowered his voice. “When? How do you know?”

“My grandfather told me,” said Ursula. “It happened fifty years ago, when he was a first year. The person who did it was expelled.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No,” lied Ursula. “But last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a muggleborn died.”

~~~

“I forgot to tell you,” said Ursula to Lilian as they climbed the stairs to midnight Astronomy. “Someone accused me of being the heir of Slytherin after lunch today.”

“Really?” said Lilian. “Who?”

“Some little snot nosed second year,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes. “He pointed to be in front of all his friends.”

“What did you do?”

“I just looked at him and said ‘No’ and then I walked away,” said Ursula. Lilian giggled. “What’s so funny?”

“Can you imagine?” said Lilian, giggling harder. “You accuse someone of being evil in front of your friends and then they just tell you no and walk away? Like you didn’t even take time to explain or get upset, you just walked away!”

Ursula was laughing now too.

“In retrospect, it was quite funny,” she said. “Especially considering what could have been, had it not been so ridiculous, a serious accusation.”

“You? The heir of Slytherin?” said Jacob, who was walking behind them with Vanessa. “No way.”

“Glad we’re all on the same page,” said Ursula.

“I mean, for starters you’re a girl,” continued Jacob.

Ursula was flabbergasted that his main reasoning for why she wasn’t the heir was her gender, and she was torn between calling him out on his sexist remark and not wanting to fuel anymore rumors. Many of the pureblood Slytherins had to endure similar baseless rumors, but they all fizzled out within days. Much more pressing was the upcoming Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match on Saturday.

The Slytherins had been training hard, and with their new brooms they felt confident — and, for some, cocky — about their chances. They sat together at breakfast Saturday morning, excited to play. Ursula was nervous for her first match, as she had a lot to prove, but she was ready.

As eleven o’clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch Stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. The team pulled on their green Slytherin Quidditch robes and did a last minute rundown of the tactics they had practised.

They were booed by three quarters of the school when they walked onto the pitch and the Slytherin section of the stands did their best to repay the favor when the Gryffindors walked out, making their boos and hisses heard too. Madam Hooch asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

“On my whistle,” said Madam Hooch. “Three… two… one…”

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Adrian shot forward and caught the Quaffle, passing it to Ursula, who took off like a rocket down the field.

She made it to the scoring area unopposed and feinted left, throwing the Quaffle towards the center hoop.

“Ursula Black scores! Ten points to Slytherin!” said Lee Jordan. Ursula grinned and wheeled around, chasing after Alicia who was now in possession of the Quaffle.

“Spinnet shoots — Bletchley blocks — passes to Pucey — Pucey passes to Black — Black to Flint, who shoots — oh! Flint scores,” narrated Lee, groaning. “Twenty-zero to Slytherin.”

This time Wood passed to Katie Bell, but the Slytherin chasers circled around her and a well-timed bludger from Peregrine knocked the Quaffle from her hands and into Flint’s. As Adrian scored, Fred and George were high above the rest of the game protecting Harry, leaving the Gryffindor chasers at a disadvantage.

Just as Flint scored a second time it began to rain, heavy drops splattering their faces. Loose strands from Ursula’s braid stuck to her cheeks as she wiped her eyes, exhilarated from the game. The Slytherins’ new brooms were doing their jobs and their training had paid off handsomely.

Ursula and Adrian successfully broke the ranks of the Gryffindor chasers, just as a bludger stopped Angelina from scoring. Flint caught the Quaffle and passed it to Ursula, who just managed to get it through the right hoop.

“Yeah!” shouted Adrian, giving her a high five.

“Slytherin leads, sixty points to zero,” said Lee as Flint scored yet again. Moments later, Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out, calling for a timeout.

Ursula streaked back to earth alongside the others, all of whom were soaked from the rain but grinning like mad.

“We’re crushing them,” said Flint triumphantly. “Don’t stop now, especially if the weasel twins stop protecting Potter and rejoin the game. Malfoy, catch the Snitch before he does.”

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch’s whistle they returned to the sky. Ursula saw Harry begin a sort of roller-coaster ride to avoid the bludger on his tail. Fred and George had indeed stopped protecting him, and through the silver sheets of rain she saw Adrian dodge a bludger before scoring.

Katie fumbled the Quaffle and Flint caught it, tossing it over Alicia’s head to Ursula.

WHOOSH.

Ursula rolled just as the bludger shot past her, narrowly avoiding her ear. She clung tightly to her broom and the Quaffle and recovered quickly.

“Close one, Black!” shouted Lucian as his bat and the bludger connected with a crack, sending it flying back towards Angelina.

“Black scores!” said Lee, upset at Slytherin’s lead.

A sharp crack echoed through the stadium and Ursula flinched. The bludger that had been tailing Harry had finally caught up with him; from the sound of it, it had broken his arm.

“Ursula!” shouted Adrian, passing her the Quaffle.

“Got it!” she called back, catching it successfully and tossing it to Flint.

“Ninety-zero to Slytherin,” said Lee. “Potter’s seen the Snitch! Harry Potter won’t let a broken arm stop him as he dives at Malfoy — reaches — he’s got it! Gryffindor wins one hundred and fifty to ninety!”

There was a yell from the crowd as Harry headed straight for the ground, hitting the mud with a splattering thud and rolling off his broom. There was a great deal of whistling and cheering from most of the stands but the Slytherins groaned and booed.

Ursula landed, disappointed with their loss.

“At least we played well,” said Peregrine, his shoulders slumped. His uniform was splattered with mud. Beside him, Lucian shook his wet hair out of his eyes.

“Well done Black,” said Flint gruffly, clapping her on the shoulder. “You too, Pucey.” He rounded on Draco and began to yell. “You. How could you not see the Snitch when it was on top of your head?!”

The rest of the Slytherin team trudged off to the locker rooms to change. They were all upset with Draco for not catching the Snitch, and Flint would certainly give him a hard time for it. Ursula washed the mud off her face, neck, and hands and unbraided her wet hair, letting her long curls drip water as she began to brush them out.

“Did you see Potter’s arm?” said Miles Bletchley. “Lockhart removed the bones instead of fixing them!”

“Did he?” said Ursula, shaking her head at Lockhart’s idiocy.

“Can’t imagine regrowing bones is easy,” said Adrian, rubbing his hair with a towel.

Ursula’s friends were waiting just inside the castle for her and Adrian, all upset about the loss, although they congratulated her on the three goals she had scored. All of Slytherin house was in a foul, dejected mood that night, and it only got worse in the morning.

Colin Creevey, a little Gryffindor first year, had been attacked.


	34. The Astronomy Tower

The week after Slytherin’s loss passed slowly. Weighing heavily on everyone’s mind was the attack on Colin Creevey, who was lying as though dead in the Hospital Wing. The air was thick with rumor and suspicion, and the first years travelled in tight-knit groups, scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. A number of older Slytherins in particular were profiting handsomely by selling fancy — and completely useless — antique trinkets to gullible younger students.

On Saturday, Ursula and Adrian went on another, this time more informal, date, accompanied by Lilian and Cassius. Their relationship was a bit awkward but going well, as almost the only time outside of the occasional Hogsmeade trip that they spent ‘romantically’ together was when they studied or did homework next to each other, which wasn’t romantic in the slightest.

The following Thursday, Ursula had a peculiar visitor.

She was halfway through helping Ivy collect Bubotuber pus when Professor Snape strode into Herbology, spoke briefly to Professor Sprout, and, to her surprise, beckoned to her.

“Black,” he said. “Come with me.”

Ursula shared a confused look with Ivy before wiping her hands, grabbing her bag, and following Professor Snape out the door. Draco was waiting for them in the castle, just as confused as Ursula, and they hurried after Professor Snape as he swept up the stairs. He didn’t speak to either of them the whole way, and eventually Ursula realized he was taking them to the Headmaster’s Office.

“Sherbet Lemon,” said Professor Snape when they reached the ugly stown gargoyle guarding the tower. That was evidently the password, because the gargoyle sprang to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that moved smoothly upward.

As Ursula, Draco, and Professor Snape stepped onto it, the wall thudded closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last they saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. They stepped off the stone staircase at the top and Professor Snape rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered.

Ursula had no time to observe the large circular room, decorated with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses and filled with curious silver instruments on spindle-legged tables, because her attention was drawn to Professor Dumbledore, seated behind an enormous claw-footed desk, and the small house elf sitting in front of it.

“Ah, Ms. Black, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Dumbledore, his face drawn and his eyes kind. “Please, take a seat. Thank you Severus, that will be all.”

Professor Snape left. Ursula and Draco sat nervously in front of Professor Dumbledore’s desk, both glancing at Cosmey, who was Great Aunt Cassiopeia’s house elf.

“I assume you’re both wondering why you’re here,” he said. “Cosmey, I think it would be better if you explained.”

“Yes sir,” said Cosmey in a squeaky voice. Her large brown eyes were filled with tears as she turned to face Ursula and Draco but she was remarkably composed. “It’s Mistress Cassiopeia. She passed away this morning.”

Ursula’s heart thudded. She was sure she had misheard Cosmey.

“I’m sorry?” she said faintly, her voice higher than usual.

“I’m sure this comes as a great shock. My deepest condolences,” said Professor Dumbledore kindly. “You both may return home as soon as you please with Cosmey here.”

Ursula nodded stiffly, pressing her lips together to keep from crying.

Professor Dumbledore expressed his sympathies again as they left the room, quiet and in shock. Ursula hugged Draco when they were out of the tower, but he didn’t seem as sad as she was. He was grieving, sure, but not to the level she was.

“Miss Ursula, Mister Draco,” squeaked Cosmey. “Mistress Cassiopeia told Cosmey to give these to you.” She held out two letters.

“Thank you Cosmey,” said Ursula hollowly. “Take Draco home and then wait in my dorm.”

“Yes Miss Ursula,” said Cosmey.

“I’m almost ready,” said Draco. “I just have to grab a few things.”

He headed downstairs to the dungeons, Cosmey tottering along behind him. Ursula stayed put. Her legs felt wobbly and despite her efforts she began to cry. She hurried across the hall and up the stairs, towards the Astronomy Tower, which would be empty at this time in the morning. Dimly she heard the bell ring and the thunder of hundreds of footsteps below.

She made it to the Astronomy Tower, gasping and shaking with tears, the letter from Cassiopeia clutched in one hand. Ursula sat slumped against the wall in one corner of the room and opened the letter with shaky hands.

~~~

“Where’s Ursula?” asked Lilian, as she, Adrian, and Cassius entered Charms. “She wasn’t in the common room when I checked.”

“I dunno,” said Adrian. “Why did Snape fetch her during Herbology?”

“Do you think she got bad news?” said Lilian anxiously. An idea sprang up in Cassius’s mind.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, leaving his bag and walking quickly from the room.

“Where are you going?” called Adrian after him, but Cassius didn’t answer. His hunch was either right or wrong, but he knew Ursula well.

He hurried up the stairs through the throng of students, jumping the fake step and waiting for the moving staircase to move. The bell rang while he was still climbing stairs and the hallways emptied. Cassius reached the Astronomy Tower and his steps slowed.

“Hello?” he said, his voice echoing. “Ursula?”

There was no response. Cassius caught the sound of someone sniffling and he walked slowly around the room. Sure enough, huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, was Ursula, shaking with nearly silent tears.

~~~

“C-Cassius?” choked out Ursula, her voice cracking, as Cassius sat down beside her. “W-What are you d-doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he answered calmly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She shook her head, bottom lip quivering. Instead she handed him Cassiopeia’s letter, now stained with tears. He read it silently, his face impassive. When he was done, he handed it back to her.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Then he scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Ursula, letting her cry into his shoulder.

She sobbed uncontrollably, not just for her great aunt but for her grandfather and her grandmother and even her mother. All the anger and the grief she had pent up over the years poured out, drenching Cassius’s shirt. Ursula didn’t know how long he stayed with her, but she was grateful for every second.

Cassius held her close, gently stroking her hair and occasionally whispering soft words. For the most part he stayed silent and let her cry, offering comfort as best he could. Eventually Ursula began to talk, whispering words into his shoulder, incomprehensible through her tears, expressing her sadness and her anger and her shock through gasped words and choked names.

“I’m here,” he whispered back. “It’ll be alright. You are not alone.”

“Thank you,” she managed, Cassiopeia’s letter still clenched in her hands. Cassius didn’t know if the words were for him or someone else, but they were meaningful all the same.

_ My dearest Ursula, _

_ My time with you is coming to an end. I have loved dearly and lost many, but I leave with little regret. I have written my will knowing the reaction it will have. You, my dear, do not need money, so while the things I leave you are valuable in more ways than one, my fortune is not one of them. That I have divided among my three grand-nieces, Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa, with a handsome sum for cousin Sirius. Both his inheritance and Andromeda’s I do not doubt are controversial, but when the time comes I cannot be argued with, and my will is thus. _

_ Among my possessions, I leave you many things, both for you to remember me by and because I know that they will be of use to you. I hope what you recieve makes you rich in knowledge and wise, in time. As you know, my house sits on the outskirts of a small wizarding village. Both it and the large parcel of surrounding land I leave to you. Do not leave it empty, and feel no pressure to preserve it as is. Think of it as an opportunity. Know that I will be honored however you choose to use it. _

_ Most importantly, I leave behind my memories. I hope you look back on the time we spent together with as much joy as I do, but this I mean in a literal sense. I have decided to leave you a collection of memories, both good and bad. Some show a different time, one I fear may rise again, and these will help you if it does. Others show happier times, such as your grandfather when he was younger, and more importantly your mother. I wish I could stay and share these stories with you, but I know you will enjoy them in my absence, as you deserve to know. _

_ It is my will that my house elf Cosmey is freed from service upon my death. She has been a diligent, faithful servant and in these last years, a kind companion and good friend. Treat her well. _

_ If the heart leads, the head will find a way. Though you may proceed with caution, do not let fear be your guide. Find joy in life or create, but above all, be happy. Try to understand yourself and your own values, and fight for what you believe and those you love. Even if the two clash, you will find a way. Perhaps bloody knuckles are not in your future, but a life as nothing more than someone’s wife is not the path for you. You are strong, Ursula. You are in control. I love you and I always have been and always will be proud of you, no matter where I am. Perhaps the stars will smile back when you look upon them. _

_ Toujours heureux, my darling, toujours heureux. These are my last words to you. _

_ All my love, _

_ Cassiopeia Black _


	35. The Duelling Club

Ursula returned to school Sunday night, following Cassiopeia’s funeral on Saturday. Her friends tiptoed around her for the following week, which she spent face drawn and eyes red. Eventually Ursula pushed down her grief, thanked her friends for their support, and returned seemingly to normal. Life hadn’t stopped in the meantime, and she couldn’t afford to fall behind on her schoolwork or to get distracted during Quidditch practice. Besides, if she cried a little at night, after Gemma had finally gone to sleep, who would know?

In the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around to collect the names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Ursula wasn’t; her father and Tony were coming to spend Christmas at her grandparents’ house. But because of this, Lucius and Narcissa had decided to travel, and Draco was staying at Hogwarts.

A week later, the fourth years noticed a knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up.

“A Duelling Club,” said Cassius, reading over their heads. “The first meeting is tonight.”

“I doubt duelling will be of much use with the monster,” said Lilian. “But I wouldn’t mind knowing how.”

“I’m all for it,” said Ursula. “Hopefully Professor Flitwick is teaching it; he was an accomplished duellist.”

Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick was not involved, as they learned when they returned to the Great Hall at eight o’clock. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

“Bloody hell,” muttered Adrian, as Gilderoy Lockhart walked onstage, wearing robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Professor Snape, wearing his usual black.

“I’d leave if I didn’t want to see Professor Snape humiliate him,” said Ursula.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, “Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!”

“This can’t end well,” said Lilian.

“Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I may have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works.”

Cassius groaned.

“Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. “He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry — you’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

Professor Snape’s upper lip was curling. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

“As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart told the silent crowd. “On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Ursula murmured, watching Snape bare his teeth.

“One — two — three —”

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Professor Snape cried, “ _ Expelliarmus _ !” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down to sprawl on the floor.

The Slytherins cheered, both at the success of their Head of House and at the defeat of Gilderoy Lockhart, who was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

“Well, there you have it!” he said, tottering back onto the platform. “That was a disarming charm — as you see, I’ve lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown — yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy — however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…”

Snape looked murderous. Perhaps Lockhart noticed, because he said, “Enough demonstrating! I’m going to come amongst you and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me —”

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Professor Snape paired Cassius with Adrian and Ursula with Lilian, which was practically a given.

“Face your partners!” called Lockhart, back on the platform. “And bow!”

Ursula and Lilian bowed to each other, wands at the ready. She felt a rush of adrenaline, even in a practice duel as small as this.

“Wands at the ready!” shouted Lockhart. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm our opponents — only to disarm them — we don’t want any accidents — one… two… three —”

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !” said Ursula. Lilian’s wand flew out of her hand and clattered on the floor nearby, where she retrieved it before it could be stepped on.

Before Lilian could take a turn, their attention was caught by the general disaster that many other pairs had caused, not to mention the several fights that seemed to be breaking out, including one between Draco and Harry. Draco hit Harry first, and Harry retaliated with a jet of silver light that hit Draco in the stomach, causing him to double over, wheezing.

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Draco sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a tickling charm, and he could barely move for laughing.

Harry hung back sportingly, but Draco said, “ _ Tarantallegra _ !” and Harry began to dance uncontrollably.

“Stop! Stop!” screamed Lockhart, but Snape tok charge.

“ _ Finite Incantatem _ !” he shouted. Harry’s feet stopped dancing, Draco stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke hovered over the scene. Several second years were lying on the floor, panting. Ron was holding up his ashen-faced partner. Hermione Granger and a brutish second year Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain, their wands laying forgotten on the floor. With some difficulty Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off of Hermione.

“Dear, dear,” said Professor Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. “Up you go, Macmillan… Careful there, Miss Fawcett… Pinch it hard, it’ll stop bleeding in a second, Boot…”

“I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. “Let’s have a volunteer pair — Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you —”

“Why pick  _ second years _ to duel?” whispered Lilian.

“A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,” said Professor Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. “Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the Hospital Wing in a match box. How about Malfoy and Potter?” Snape wore a twisted smile.

“Excellent idea!” said Professor Lockhart, gesturing Draco and Harry into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

“Now Harry,” said Lockhart. “When Draco points his wand at you, do this.”

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops — my wand is a little overexcited —”

Professor Snape moved closer to Draco, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Draco smirked, too. Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder.

“Just do what I did, Harry!”

“What, drop my wand?”

But Professor Lockhart wasn’t listening.

“Three — two — one — go!” he shouted.

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, “ _ Serpensortia _ !”

The end of his wand exploded. A long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily on the floor between him and Harry, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

“Don’t move, Potter,” said Professor Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. “I’ll get rid of it…”

“Allow me!” shouted Professor Lockhart. He brandished his wand and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward a Hufflepuff second year and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

And then the strangest thing happened.

Harry strode forward and made a loud hissing sound at the snake, who, after a moment, slumped to the floor.

“He’s a Parselmouth!” whispered Vanessa in shock.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” shouted the Hufflepuff to Harry. He turned and stormed from the hall.

Professor Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a puff of black smoke. Muttering began to fill the hall. Ron and Hermione hurried forward and steered Harry out of the hall, the people on either side drawing away, frightened. Only when they were long gone did the other students trickle out of the Great Hall and head back to their dorms.

“So Potter’s the Heir of Slytherin,” said Cassius, sounding unconvinced.

“It doesn’t make sense,” agreed Lilian. “I mean, isn’t that Granger girl a muggleborn?”

“He doesn’t seem the type,” said Ursula. “But how else can he speak Parseltongue?”

~~~

The next morning, Ursula learned that Malfoy Manor had been raided by the Ministry of Magic. The letter she got from Narcissa was brief and not very informative, but it was clear the Ministry hadn’t found what they were looking for; the chamber under the drawing-room floor hadn’t been found. Rather than let this news occupy her mind, she focused on her Transfiguration class, which today was supposed to be turning cauldrons into badgers.

“Ten points to Slytherin,” said Professor McGonagall approvingly, when she managed it on the first try. Ursula beamed.

Alas, the points she gained would soon be offset, as rather than transform his cauldron, Cassius had accidentally turned Adrian into a badger.

“Twenty points from Slytherin!” shouted Professor McGonagall. “How irresponsible of you, Mr. Warrington! You’ve been warned about messing around in my class!” She continued to yell at him for sometime, before stopping and adjusting her spectacles.

“However,” she said slowly. “You have escaped detention  _ only  _ by the complexity of the spell, but should you do it again  _ you will not be so lucky _ . Is this understood?”

Cassius gulped and nodded. With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall transformed badger Adrian back into human Adrian, who was now awkwardly sitting atop his desk, his hair still striped black and white.

Suddenly, a voice from the corridor shouted, “ATTACK! ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!”

There were a series of crashes as Professor McGonagall’s door and others flew open, as teachers and students alike flooded out to see what the commotion was. Nearly Headless Nick was floating stiffly and horizontally, his body black and smoky and his head half off, next to the Hufflepuff who the snake had nearly attacked the night before, who lay frozen, an expression of shock etched onto his face.

Ursula and the others followed Professor McGonagall as she cut through the crowd. Professor McGonagall used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes, including her own. Reluctantly they trudged back, glimpsing as much of the scene as possible first and all murmuring about it as they filed back into the Transfiguration classroom.

“That was Justin Finch-Fletchley,” said Cedric, referring to the petrified Hufflepuff.

“What happened to Nearly Headless Nick?” asked Ursula in a hushed voice. “I didn’t know ghosts could get petrified.”

“I know this is a serious moment, but could someone please fix my hair?” said Adrian. Ursula obliged, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

“It was Potter!” announced Jacob, prompting another outbreak of muttering. “He was there, and he tried to attack Finch-Fletchley last night!”

They all had to agree that Harry being on the scene was peculiar, almost too much of a coincidence based on the events that transpired the night before. Professor McGonagall didn’t return for some time, her face drawn and her lips pursed, and no sooner had she come back than the bell rang.

It was all anyone could talk about for the rest of the day. After Arithmancy and History of Magic, Ursula had lunch, and while Lilian headed off to Muggle Studies, she and Adrian spent their free period together in the library.

“What we need,” said Adrian, reaching the end of his rant, “is a duelling club  _ not  _ taught by an idiot.”

“Then how about we make one?” suggested Ursula, gears turning in her mind. The seed of the idea had been planted after Lockhart’s failure, but only now were the pieces falling into place.

Adrian looked at her, his brow furrowed.

“But who would teach us?” he asked.

“How about we teach ourselves?” said Ursula. “Think about it. I’m sure I can find books on duelling and defensive spells, and if the attacks continue who knows what will happen. We need to be prepared. Besides,” she added, “wouldn’t you like to know how to duel? It might come in handy someday.”

“Go on,” said Adrian excitedly. “Do you have any other ideas?”

“Well…” said Ursula slowly. “I don’t think we should offer it to everyone. Just you and I and our friends, at first. And even if everyone thinks Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin, the rest of the school still doesn’t trust us, and I don’t want it getting out that we have a secret duelling club, even if it’s primarily about defense, so only people we can trust are allowed in.”

Her eyes brightened.

“Also, we don’t call it a club.”

“Why wouldn’t we do that?” Adrian asked, confused.

“If someone were to slip and mention it, I don’t want it to be obvious what it is,” said Ursula. “Besides, ‘club’ sounds too informal for this, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ursula, you’re a genius —” Adrian began, before he cut himself off, his face going slightly pink. Very quickly, he leaned forward, and kissed Ursula.

The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, and when it was over they both pulled away, blushing like mad. Ursula, her face bright red, shyly avoided Adrian’s gaze and tucked a curl behind her ear.

“So,” said Adrian, sounding slightly out of breath. His voice was a bit high. “You were saying something about how the word ‘club’ sounds to, um, informal?”


	36. The Future Mr. Scamander

“Merry Christmas, Ursula!”

“Dad!”

Ursula ran to hug him. Uncle Barnaby — Uncle Bat for short — had picked her and her cousin Leon up from King’s Cross and brought them here, to her grandparents’ house for Christmas.

“Hi Tony,” said Ursula brightly, greeting her dad’s boyfriend as well.

“Hello Ursula,” said Tony. “Merry Christmas.”

“Don’t just stand there at the door!” said Grandma Maggie, bustling out from the kitchen. “Come in, come in.”

Ursula and Leon followed her into the kitchen, where Leon’s siblings nine year old Beatrice and six year old Felix greeted them with equal enthusiasm. Grandpa Laurie and Grandma Maggie owned a large house out in the countryside, with plenty of room for Uncle Bat and Aunt Willa, their three kids, and Ken, Tony, and Ursula to stay.

Today was Saturday, Christmas being the following Friday, but there was lots to do before then. Her grandparents’ house was minimally decorated, so that was the first task. They decorated the house with several dozen strands of twinkling, multicolored lights, erected inflatable reindeer and light-up Santa Clauses in the yard and on the roof, and wrote their names in gold glitter onto new red stockings.

On Monday, Ken and Uncle Bat brought home a large Christmas tree, and they had great fun decorating it and stacking presents underneath. Once they had finished, Leon cheerfully declared it was time for a snowball fight, to capitalize on the thick blanket of snow that had descended on them overnight.

It was Ken, Tony, Ursula, and Felix versus Uncle Bat, Leon, Beatrice, and a begrudging Aunt Willa. Each team constructed a small fort to hide behind and the snow packed excellently into snowballs.

“Fire!” shouted Leon’s high voice, and a barrage of snowballs came raining down on them.

“Attack!” shouted Ursula’s father. He put Felix on his shoulders and jumped up, running around and throwing snowballs at his brother.

The snowball fight went on for some time, with Ursula landing hits on all of her relatives, Ken being as just invested in the game as his daughter, niece, and nephews, and a well-placed snowball from Tony hitting Uncle Bat in the face.

“I think that’s enough for me,” said Aunt Willa eventually. “And for this little one, too.”

She plucked a tired Felix off of Ken’s shoulders and joined Grandpa Laurie and Grandma Maggie on the porch.

At one point, Ursula got in trouble for levitating snowballs to make them attack her cousins. Well, she didn’t really get in trouble — in a house full of wizards, no one would notice underage magic — and Ken was grinning through his obligatory reprimand, which didn’t leave Ursula even the least bit chastised. Tony loved it, and declared it a valid means of warfare, but Leon pouted. In the end, Ken gave Ursula a slingshot as a compromise, but that turned out to be an even more effective means of launching snowballs.

The game came to an end when there was now snow in the backyard left untouched, and they were all cold and wet.

“Hot chocolate for all!” declared Grandpa Laurie, ruffling the damp hair of each of his grandchildren as they reentered the house, grinning past blue lips.

On Tuesday, they headed into town after dinner to go ice skating.

“It’s been a long time since I last did this,” said Tony as he laced up his skates.

“You and me both,” said Ken.

They made quite a wobbly pair out on the ice, with numerous falls that ended in laughter and one or two in apologies, but eventually — and with considerable help from Ursula — both were able to stand on their own.

“So Ursula,” said Ken with a sly glance at her. “You haven’t told me much about your boyfriend.”

“What’s this I hear about a boyfriend?” said Tony, also teasing her.

“His name is Adrian,” said Ken quickly, “he’s a Slytherin, and a chaser on the Quidditch Team, and Ursula is totally infatuated with him —”

“Dad!” complained Ursula, blushing hard. “I didn’t say that!”

“It’s my duty as your father to tease you,” said Ken, assuming an air of mock authority, “especially when it comes to school-age relationships.”

Ursula rolled her eyes, but she was grinning.

“And it’s my job,” cut in Grandpa Laurie, gliding smoothly over, “to rescue my granddaughter in her time of need.” He offered Ursula his arm and she skated off with him, just as her father tripped and landed sprawling on his back.

Wednesday was for the most part a quiet and relaxed day, filed with last minute present wrapping and preparing for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Ursula sent Agatha out with several letters and packages, while Betelgeuse had great fun playing with his fellow Kneazles. She had tied a lovely festive ribbon around his neck and at long last he had given up on trying to get it off, content instead to paw at the jingle bells someone left out.

Tony was quite an excellent cook, and was happy to assist Grandma Maggie in whatever she might need. He was also eager to learn about British customs and giddy from all the magic around him. It was during one such time on Wednesday, two days before Christmas, when Ken brought Ursula upstairs to have a moment alone with her.

“School’s going alright, then?” Ken said. “You’re halfway done with Hogwarts now.”

“That’s a scary thought,” said Ursula. “But yes, all of my classes are going well.”

“And your friends?”

“They’re good,” she replied. “How’s everything at the sanctuary?”

“Fine, fine,” said Ken. He seemed a bit distracted. “This Christmas has been fun.”

“One of the best, I think,” agreed Ursula.

“You like Tony, right?”

“Yes dad. I like him a lot.”

“How would you feel if he stayed in our lives?” said Ken. “Became part of our family?”

“I’d like that,” said Ursula. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, little one,” said Ken. “Now, I have a job for you…”

On Christmas Eve, the festivities kicked up a notch further. They had a sort of pre-Christmas feast, with plates of mini mince pies being passed around and plenty of crackers being opened. In the afternoon, Aunt Willa whipped out all the necessary supplies for making gingerbread houses, with plenty of frosting and decorations.

Leon and Beatrice were in a sort of competition to see who could make the superior gingerbread house, while Felix just dumped frosting and candy onto his, but Ursula wanted hers to be perfect.

“Tony, will you help me?” she asked.

Looking surprised, Tony nodded and came over to help her.

“I want it to be as close to a real house as possible,” she explained. He grinned.

“Excellent!” said Tony. “That’s how I always did them as a kid.”

Before they even began to build, Tony drew up some quick sketches — obviously drawn to scale — and then they began to construct a solid foundation.

“Are you building a house out of bricks or gingerbread here?” said Ken in amusement, observing their blueprints and the meticulous way they worked. But Ursula could tell he was thrilled to see them bonding, and after a minute or two he brought out a camera to take pictures.

Ursula and Tony spent a good two hours on their house, much longer than the other kids, but it truly was perfect when they had finished. They’d made a two story house carefully frosted to have shingles on the roof as well as snow, with a front porch under an awning, a working front and back door, a pathway lined in candy, and a candy cane picket fence. It was not unlike the house they were in right now.

“It’s a masterpiece,” declared Tony triumphantly. He high fived Ursula. “We did it.”

“Thanks for your help,” she said happily.

“Smile for a picture!” said Ken. Tony put his arm around Ursula’s shoulders and they beamed at Ken from behind their gingerbread house.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed with an ever increasing amount of singing, from slightly off-key children’s voices to much more off-key drunken adults. One by one they wound their way off to bed. Ursula was one of the last, and she was careful not to wake Beatrice, who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the room.

She was also careful not to wake her cousin early the next morning, before the sun had risen or anyone was awake. The faint smell of cinnamon wafted up the stairs, and she knew her grandma’s cinnamon rolls had just begun to cook, started by a timer to give the woman time to sleep. It wouldn’t be long before Leon, Beatrice, or Felix woke, discovered the presents from Santa Claus beneath the tree, and woke everyone else as noisily as possible.

Ursula crept down the hallway, the same camera her father had been using to take pictures of her and Tony the day before clutched in her hand. The door to Ken and Tony’s room was open just a few inches, and Ursula sat by the door and waited. It didn’t take long before she heard movement, and Ken winked at her through the opening in the door. That was her cue to start recording.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” Ken said.

“Merry Christmas, dear,” replied Tony with a yawn. Ursula was pleased to see he and her father were wearing matching Christmas sweaters. “It’s a bit early, don’t you think?”

“I bet some of the kids are already up,” said Ken. “Or they will be soon. Besides, I wanted to give you something in private.”

“Oh?” said Tony. “How romantic.”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Ken, and they both laughed.

Ursula saw him hand Tony a card that read ‘ _ Say Yule Be Mine _ ’ on the front. They were both silent as Tony opened the card and read what was inside. His jaw dropped when Ken got down on one knee and pulled out a small box.

“Anthony Roberto Serrano,” said Ken. “Will you marry me?”

Ursula crossed her fingers.

“Yes!” exclaimed Tony, jumping up. “Yes! Oh my god yes!”

They kissed and hugged and Ken slid the engagement ring onto Tony’s finger while Ursula celebrated silently.

“But, what will Ursula think?” asked Tony suddenly, starting to frown. “Is she okay with this?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” said Ken, his beaming grin never wavering. “Ursula, why don’t you come in here?”

Ursula entered the room to Tony’s amazement, waving the camera in her hand to show why she was there. She walked over and gave Tony a hug.

“I’m thrilled,” she said, hugging her dad as well. Distantly they heard the sound of little feet pounding on the stairs.

“I guess it’s time to open presents,” said Ken. His smile didn’t stop even when he was talking. “Although the two of you are the greatest gifts I could ever get.”

“This, said Tony in agreement, one arm around his fiancé’s waist and the other over Ursula’s shoulders, “is the best Christmas gift ever.”

“I love you both,” said Ursula.

“We love you too, Ursula dear,” said Tony. “Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?”


	37. Madam Puddifoot’s

Ursula informed her friends of her father’s engagement as soon as she returned to school, being vaguer in details to some than others. Draco was quite pleased to see her, and complained about being stuck at Hogwarts for the holidays.

Harry Potter’s muggleborn friend was noticeably absent, so a rumor floated around for a few weeks that she had been petrified, but after Adrian went to the Hospital Wing with a broken nose after Quidditch practice, he said she’d been talking to Harry and Ron.

As they moved into February, the sun began to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning they were fast leaving childhood.

Everyone was pleased that the attacks had seemingly ceased, but they were considerably less pleased that Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop.

“I don’t think any of you need to worry,” he said airily, after one particularly useless Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He tapped his nose knowingly. “I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.”

Cassius passed a note to Vanessa, who handed it to Ursula, who unfolded it, revealing a crude drawing of Professor Lockhart being eaten by Slytherin’s monster, which Cassius interpreted as a dragon-esque creature. She had to cover her mouth to conceal her giggles.

“You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term!” continued Professor Lockhart. “I won’t say any more, because I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, but I know just the thing…”

He winked and tapped his nose again. The bell rang, and he walked them all to the Great Hall for a study period. Being escorted everywhere by a teacher was a terrible waste of time, and if they were attacked on the way to class, how could Professor Lockhart possibly defend them?

“So, there’s a Hogsmeade trip on Saturday…” said Vanessa pointedly, staring at Ursula as they sat down to study. “It  _ is  _ the closest one to Valentine’s Day…”

“Mmhm.” Ursula wasn’t really paying attention. She had a ghastly essay to finish for Professor Snape and a long set of translations for Ancient Runes, and she’d have no time to do either later because of Quidditch practice.

“You haven’t gone to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop yet,” continued Vanessa. When neither Ursula or Adrian responded she exclaimed, “For Merlin’s sake, Adrian, take her on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”

“Oh…” said Adrian, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Um…”

Ursula felt a pit in her stomach. Was it worth going on another date with him when — no, another date would be fine.

“We can talk about this later,” she said, managing to keep the snap of irritation out of her voice. She focused on her essay, and did not look up until the bell rang and they were walked to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom.

Professor Kettleburn stomped into the classroom, his face flushed.

“I,” he began, sounding very annoyed, “have once again been put on probation.”

He did not say what for, and no one dared to ask. They spent the rest of the period taking notes on grindylows. Eventually Adrian whispered, “Do you?”

“Do I what?” hissed Ursula back.

“You know,” said Adrian. “Do you want to go on a date on Saturday? To Madam Puddifoot’s?”

That lump in Ursula’s stomach returned.

“Sure, why not?” she replied, trying to focus on copying the drawing Professor Kettleburn had put on the board.

“Okay,” said Adrian. “Cool.”

Saturday arrived, and this time Ursula did wear a dress, a lovely pale pink one patterned with little white hearts, and a matching pink headband. It was a sunny day, and she needed nothing more than a light cardigan to fight the slight chill outside. She met Adrian in the entrance hall like normal, and they strolled into Hogsmeade in near silence.

“You look very nice,” said Adrian.

“Thank you,” Ursula replied. “You look nice as well.”

“Thanks.”

They held hands for a while, but something about it felt strange, so they stopped. What little conversation they had felt stilted, and that pit in Ursula’s stomach was back. They headed through Hogsmeade, passing the Weasley twins and Lee, who waved and heckled them good-naturedly.

If Ursula thought Madam Puddifoot’s was frilly before, it was nothing compared to what it looked like for Valentine’s Day. The frills and lace and bows had been upped a notch, and everything was pink and red and white. Golden cherubs hung over each of the cramped tables, occasionally showering pink confetti over the people sitting below them. This was more irritating than romantic, however, as the confetti often landed in people’s drinks.

Adrian and Ursula squeezed their way through the crowded tables, occupied by couples holding hands or kissing over cups of tea. They sat in silence until Madam Puddifoot bustled over with a beaming grin, delivering a steaming china teapot and matching cups.

They sipped their tea in awkward silence, staring at the couples around them to avoid each other. When Ursula drained her cup, she spoke.

“I think we should break up.”

Adrian gaped, frowned, and then, after a moment, nodded.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” he said slowly. “It’s nothing you did, it’s just…”

“Awkward,” supplied Ursula. “You did nothing wrong either, but this was the first relationship for both of us.”

“Yeah,” agreed Adrian. “We had a good run, but I think it’s time.”

“We can still be friends, right?” asked Ursula.

“Definitely,” said Adrian, nodding.

“I’m going to go, if that’s okay,” said Ursula. “I can pay for myself.”

“No, no, let me,” said Adrian. “I’ll see you back at the castle?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “Bye Adrian.”

“Bye Ursula.”

She stood, squeezed her way back through the maze of tables and left, ignoring the stares she got from the other couples. Ursula walked through Hogsmeade, feeling as if a pressure had lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t feel like going to any of the other shops, so she headed back up the path towards Hogwarts. To her surprise, she found herself tearing up a little, not out of sadness but an excess of emotion. An amicable breakup was still raw.

“Hey, Black!” called Fred, jogging up on one side of her.

“Whatcha doing?” added George, coming up on her other side.

“Where’s Adrian?” asked Lee, joining them last.

“Hello boys,” said Ursula, mustering up a small smile. “I’m heading back to Hogwarts. Adrian and I broke up.”

“Oh, really?” said George.

“Sorry to hear that,” added Lee.

“Are you… doing okay?” asked Fred hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A real smile, though still small and a little sad, worked its way onto her face. “Nice talking to you, boys.”

They stopped walking and she kept going, walking down the winding path alone in her pretty pink dress.

“George, Lee, I have an idea,” said Fred as they watched Ursula walk away.

“What is it, Freddie?” asked George.

“I think our friend Black needs a bit of cheering up,” Fred replied. “And I know just how to do it.”


	38. Valentine's Day

Professor Lockhart’s idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on Thursday, February fourteenth. Ursula had been feeling a bit down since she and Adrian broke up — she regretted nothing, but change was hard and she missed the sense of companionship — and things between them hadn’t quite returned to normal, though both of them made an effort. So it was quite a shock when she and Lilian walked into the Great Hall to find the walls covered in lurid pink flowers and heart shaped confetti falling from beneath a pale blue ceiling.

“Bloody hell,” grumbled Cassius as they sat down at the Slytherin table. He shook confetti off his bacon. “He’s gone mad.”

“Who?” asked Lilian. Wordlessly, Cassius pointed to the teachers’ table.

Lockhart stood out like a sore thumb amid the other teachers, thanks to his shockingly pink robes that matched the decorations. A muscle was jumping in Professor McGonagall’s jaw, and Professor Snape looked more livid than usual.

“Of course it was him,” muttered Ursula, taking a bite out of a chocolate covered strawberry as Lockhart waved his arms for silence.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Professor Lockhart shouted. “And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn’t end here!”

He clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarves. Not just any dwarves, unfortunately. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

“What the —” began Cassius.

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn’t stop here! I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!”

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Professor Snape looked like the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

“Vanessa, you were one of the forty-six, weren’t you?” said Ursula once Professor Lockhart finished his speech. Vanessa blushed.

“Maybe,” she said loftily.

“Speaking of valentines…” began Lilian, sharing a pointed look with Cassius, who grinned.

The two of them, along with Gemma, Vanessa, and Adrian, pulled cards from their bags and held them out to Ursula, who stared at them all in confusion.

“What is this?” she asked suspiciously.

“Just some Valentine’s Day cards for you,” said Lilian innocently.

“And why are you all giving me cards?” Ursula questioned.

She got nothing but shrugs and smiles in return. Hesitantly she accepted the cards, stacking them atop the heart-shaped box of chocolates included with Cassius’s.

“Gingers, three o’clock,” said Gemma. Ursula turned as Fred and George strolled nonchalantly up to her, grinning like madmen.

“Hello Black,” said Fred cheerily. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You seem to be quite popular,” said George, pointing to the stack of cards from her friends.

“Yes…” Her eyes narrowed. “Just how many people did you ask to give me cards?”

“What makes you think it was us?” said Fred smoothly.

“Perhaps we had nothing to do with it,” added George.

“But whichever devilishly handsome —”

“Incredibly smart —”

“Chivalrous —”

“Not to mention daring —”

“— men may have been involved, let’s just say our friend Ms. Black here is in for a quite busy Valentine’s Day,” finished Fred.

“Fred, George,  _ how many people did you ask _ ?”

“Let’s just start with ours and see how it goes, right Freddie?” said George.

“Right you are, George,” said Fred.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” they said together, presenting her with their gifts — a card and a teddy bear from Fred, and a card and a bouquet of flowers from George.

“Oh, and of course our gifts had to include a song,” added George swiftly.

“Oh, no —” protested Ursula.

“I mean, what are we, animals?” said Fred.

“And maybe a few other people had the same idea,” suggested George. “Who’s to say?”

“You are!” exclaimed Ursula. But it was too late. Two of Lockhart’s dwarves had followed the Weasley twins, and, to her utter horror, they both began to sing, singing two completely different songs.

“Her eyes are the sky and stars rolled into one —” began the first dwarf in a gravelly, far too loud voice, drawing the attention of much of the hall. Ursula buried her face in her hands and avoided eye contact with anyone, already embarrassed.

“Dear Ursula Black, this song is for you —” sang the other, his nasally voice drawing even more attention. Her friends were watching with unrestrained glee.

“Her smile how it sparkles, how silky her hair —”

“A Valentine’s gift from twin number two —”

“Her laugh is like music, this song’s nearly done —”

“What a snake, what a girl, what a chaser too —”

“So please take from me darling this teddy bear!”

“I thought a nice card and some flowers would do!”

The hall roared with laughter as the dwarves finished and shuffled away. Ursula’s face was bright red, but despite this she smiled at the absurdity of it all. Fred and George bowed, rousing further cheers, and set their gifts on the table.

“I’m never letting myself get embarrassed like this again,” said Ursula.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” said Lilian, knocking her shoulder affectionately.

“Can’t,” Ursula replied. “It runs in the family.”

“It was sweet! You needed to be cheered up,” Lilian said.

“I’ll admit it was nice as long as we can leave right now,” said Ursula. But that wasn’t an option either.

“Can’t leave yet!” said Adrian, pointing to the barrage of owls that were arriving. In particular, one that carried a large red box.

“Oh no,” said Ursula as the eagle owl neared. “Oh no…”

The owl landed, releasing the box, squawked at her, and took off again. Ursula fumbled with the red ribbon for a moment before freeing the card.

“How did Hadrian find out about this?” she asked the group at large, stuffing the card back into its envelope. “He’s away at Durmstrang.”

“I owled him,” confessed Vanessa, “after the Weasleys and Lee told me of their plan.”

“He must have had his mother send me this box, then,” Ursula replied. She tore through the red paper, praying it wasn’t jewelry. The embarrassment would be too great if it was. To her immense relief, it wasn’t.

“Another bear,” she said, pulling out the white stuffed animal holding a red heart. “And —” she pulled out an enormous, heart-shaped box of truffles. “Ah.”

“Either his mother picked those gifts with no direction from him, or you’ve got an admirer,” teased Cassius. Ursula tossed the bear at him.

She managed to escape the Great Hall at last, only being stopped by the rest of the Slytherins in her year as they too produced valentines. She even got one from Jacob. Ursula and the others returned to the Slytherin common room as Lilian headed for Muggle Studies. She was stopped twice, first by Peter Parkinson and an unfortunate song, and then by a quaking Hufflepuff first year, who tossed his valentine at her and ran off.

Ursula wasn’t safe in the common room, either. After dumping everything she had acquired so far, she was ambushed by the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, with a large bouquet  _ and  _ a box of chocolates accompanying Lucian’s card.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout was interrupted four times as dwarves shuffled in to serenade a blushing Ursula. Professor Sprout didn’t mind, however, and laughed cheerfully each time. Ivy presented her with a quaint card and Ursula thanked her, passing back one of her own. She had, in truth, made cards for each of her close friends, but it became increasingly awkward to pass them out.

Like Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick endured the interruptions — which happened about every ten minutes in Charms — in high spirits, all six times it happened.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” said Cedric when Charms ended. He pulled out yet another stuffed bear and set it on her desk.

“Thanks,” said Ursula.

In the hallway between classes, she was stopped by all different students in all different houses to be handed a card, accompanied a quarter of the time by a box of chocolates or flowers, or by dwarves to deliver cards that the students themselves were too anxious to give her.

“Well, if I ever need to forge someone’s handwriting, I have plenty of examples,” she remarked as they headed to lunch.

“What a positive way to look at it,” said Cassius airily. Out of everyone, he was the most joyful about the day. Just as Ursula was giving him his own valentine, Lee’s singing dwarf arrived, followed shortly by one Dennis Moon confessed to.

Cassius and Lilian had designated themselves as Ursula’s guardian angels — or devils, given as their one task was to not let her escape whenever a dwarf came by. After an Ancient Runes class with a merciful three songs, Ursula spotted a dwarf coming towards her from down the hallway and turned to head into a different corridor.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Cassius, linking his arm with hers and dragging her back. He did considerably more of the grunt work than Lilian, given his size and strength, and the fact that Lilian was no match for Ursula.

When the truly terrible song was over — it was from Oliver Wood, as Fred and George had got the entire Gryffindor team to torment her as well — Ursula hoped she might get to Astronomy without being stopped any more, but instead she hit the true low point of the day.

“Someone’s popular,” said Gilderoy Lockhart with a saucy wink, flashing his signature smile, as he saw Ursula struggling to carry the card, flowers, and chocolates she had acquired just since lunch. She scowled, made a rude hand gesture that he didn’t see, and kept walking, shoving half of the stuff into Cassius’s hands.

Three songs later, and Ursula’s last class of the day was the only one she had been dreading, given the frequency of dwarves popping in: Potions.

When they arrived in the dungeons, Professor Snape’s mood was nastier than usual. He had been in a foul mood since breakfast for obvious reasons, but Fred and George cheerfully informed Ursula they had hired a dwarf to enter his classroom every hour and blow a large raspberry, which had clearly only made him even more malicious than usual. He swept around the classroom, criticizing everyone and taking points off wherever he could as they struggled through an antidote for uncommon poisons.

Just as Ursula handed Professor Snape a flask of the completed potion — normally being the first one to do so would have earned her points — a fifth dwarf marched in and began to sing a particularly bawdy tune. Snape’s face turned red, a vein popping in his jaw. Ursula could only stand there, her face burning. Fred and George shook with silent laughter.

“Black,” he snarled. “How many more of these  _ ridiculous  _ distractions may we expect?”

“I don’t know, sir,” she said meekly, the rude lyrics ringing in her ears. “I can only apologize for what just happened.”

“That was mine,” whispered Lilian in Ursula’s ear as she sat down again. Ursula clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from snorting.

As Potions mercifully drew to a close, one — hopefully — final dwarf sauntered in.

“Get it over with,” snapped Professor Snape.

“As you wish, sir,” said the dwarf. He cleared his throat.

“ _ Oh what a beauty, what a snake is Severus  _ —”

Ursula thought Professor Snape might explode, and she was surprised the dwarf didn’t drop dead under his withering stare.

“—  _ From his long black cloak to his greasy, greasy hair  _ —”

“When I find who did this —” snarled Professor Snape.

“—  _ He might be a bat, we’re not really sure! But what we do know is that he smells like p  _ —”

“Enough!” shouted Snape as the class dissolved into raucous laughter. “Out!”

“Just one more thing,” said the dwarf. He blew a large raspberry, and Snape turned purple. Fred and George lost it completely, falling out of their chairs and rolling on the floor as the dwarf shuffled out.

“DETENTION!” bellowed Professor Snape. “FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR! NOW GET OUT, ALL OF YOU!”

They hastily gathered up their stuff and left, all repeating the song over and over again, giddy in Snape’s shame.

“How was that, Black?” said Fred.

“A happy Valentine’s Day for you?” added George.

“It definitely cheered me up,” said Ursula. “Thank you both, but please,  _ never do it again _ .”

They made cheerful promises not to, though they were surely worthless, and Ursula grinned as she headed up to the Great Hall for dinner, thankful to have such great, embarrassing, ridiculous, well-meaning, and thoughtful friends.


	39. Kittens & Questions

“Delilah has been acting weird for two weeks now,” said Vanessa at the beginning of March. “And I think she’s put on weight.”

“I suppose you could take her to Professor Kettleburn,” suggested Ursula. “Or Madam Pomfrey or even Hagrid.”

“Fine,” said Vanessa, sighing unhappily. “Will you come with me? Professor Kettleburn is kind of a weirdo.”

“Sure,” said Ursula. “How about we go see him tonight? Care of Magical Creatures is my last class, and since you have a free period you could bring Delilah down at the end.”

“Alright, I will,” Vanessa replied. “I just hope there’s nothing wrong.”

~~~

“Kittens?” said Vanessa in disbelief.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Professor Kettleburn, gently prodding Delilah’s belly. She hissed at him. “I’d say two or three, maybe four. Any idea who the father is?”

“No!” said Vanessa, sounding slightly distraught.

“I do,” said Ursula suddenly. “I bet it’s Betelgeuse, my kneazle.”

“Ah, a kneazle!” said Professor Kettleburn excitedly. “Kneazles crossbreed very well with regular cats, you know. I’d say the kittens’ll be here in about a month. I’m happy to help care for them, if you wouldn’t mind ‘em being shown off to a class or two.”

“Alright,” said Vanessa, still a little shocked.

“Thanks, Professor Kettleburn,” said Ursula, leading her friend from his office.

“My pleasure, Ms. Black.”

They walked back to Vanessa’s dorm, where she set Delilah on her bed. As soon as she did, Betelgeuse came trotting through the open door, bushy tail held high; he jumped up on the bed beside Delilah and started purring.

“Beej, you’re a very naughty boy,” reprimanded Ursula sternly. Betelgeuse couldn’t have looked less guilty. Ursula clapped her friend on the shoulder. “It could be worse. Have you seen the Cornish Rex down the hall?”

Vanessa wrinkled her nose.

“That ugly thing owned by the second year? Thank goodness it’s not him.”

When the kittens arrived in the first week of April just as Professor Kettleburn predicted, they knew for sure Betelgeuse was the father. Delilah delivered four tiny kittens, two of them white, one of them reddish brown, and one of them black.

“Betelguese’s mother is that color,” said Ursula, softly stroking the red one’s head.

“Three girls and a boy!” declared Professor Kettleburn. “This little runt —” he pointed to the smaller of the white kittens “— is the boy.”

The kittens tucked close to their mother, eyes and ears closed and mewling loudly. Betelgeuse lay on their other side, and started licking the one nearest him. Ursula scratched his head and he purred in satisfaction.

“They’ll be safe here with you for the first few weeks, right?” said Vanessa anxiously. In the last month, she had been less than keen on the idea of kittens, but now that they were here she worried about them.

“Yes, Ms. Shafiq, they’ll be fine,” promised Professor Kettleburn. He was in a good mood not just because of the birth of the kittens but also because his probation had ended. “You can visit them every day, and once they’re about three weeks old you can move them to your dorm.”

Professor Kettleburn wasn’t the only one in high spirits. There hadn’t been an attack since before Christmas, and the students finally felt safe again. Slytherin had defeated Ravenclaw, and if they beat Hufflepuff by enough points in May they would win the Quidditch Cup. Currently, it was the Easter holidays, which gave the students plenty of time to catch up on their homework.

“Of course, next year we take our OWLs, and that will be  _ really  _ difficult,” Gemma was saying when Ursula and Vanessa returned to the common room. This wasn;t the first time Gemma had said this, and Ursula knew she’d hear it all the way up until their last OWL was finished.

“The OWLs are very important,” agreed Ursula. “I’m hoping for all Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations, but it’ll take a lot of studying to get there.”

“I just want them to be over,” groaned Cassius, flopping onto a sofa. “We’re not even fifth years yet and I’m sick of hearing about them.”

“Instead, I want to hear about Lewis,” said Lilian, sliding her eyes to Ursula. “Why have you stopped seeing him?”

“I didn’t know the two of you broke up,” said Vanessa, frowning.

“You’re both blowing this way out of proportion,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes. “We were never dating, so we didn’t break up. We never even went on an official date.”

Ursula had hung out with Lewis Carter, a Ravenclaw in her year, three or so times in as many weeks. But, as she pointed out to her friends, they had only been studying together, since they were partners on a project for Ancient Runes.

“The project is over, so there’s really no reason for us to keep hanging out,” said Ursula. “He’s nice, I guess, but we didn’t talk much or anything.”

“Too busy making out?” teased Lilian.

“You’re impossible,” said Ursula. She got up and crossed the common room to sit beside Draco, who was busy trying to pick the electives he wanted to take in third year.

“Hello Draco. Picked anything yet?”

“I suppose so,” said Draco, looking up at her. “I’ve decided to take Arithmancy.”

“Are you going for two or three electives?” asked Ursula. Draco considered the question for a moment.

“Three,” he said. “I can’t imagine taking Muggle Studies, so I think I’ll take Divination like Crabbe and Goyle. Is Care of Magical Creatures any good?”

“I think you know my answer,” said Ursula with a smile. Draco rolled his eyes.

“I know  _ you  _ like it, but would  _ I  _ like it?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Ursula. “Yes I think you would.”

Privately she thought perhaps one of Professor Kettleburn’s lessons might be enough to teach Draco some common sense or humility, but she really did hope he would enjoy the class. Alas, Draco would never get the chance to be taught by the wizened, old, lacking two-and-a-half limbs professor.

“I’m retiring at the end of the year,” announced Professor Kettleburn at the end of one lesson, which began by covering chimaeras and ended with petting the now nearly three-week-old kittens.

An outbreak of murmuring swept the class, some expressing their sadness and others, their not-so-subtle glee.

“Who’s replacing you?” piped up Blossom.

“I’m not sure yet, Ms. Ash, but I can promise you’ll be in good hands, especially with your OWLs coming up,” said Professor Kettleburn. Just as Cassius was tired of hearing Gemma talk about them, Ursula had grown weary of the increasing reminders from their teachers about exams that were more than a year away.

Professor McGonagall mentioned the OWLs as well, amid a review over Animagi.

“Understanding the process of becoming Animagus will almost certainly come up in your OWLs, which are your first real opportunities to show what you know and what you can do, as well as to decide what interests you,” she said.

An idea sparked in Ursula’s mind and she raised her hand.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Ms. Black?” asked Professor McGonagall.

“When did you become an Animagus?”

“During my fifth year,” answered Professor McGonagall. She gave Ursula a shrewd look. “But as it is highly complex magic, none of you should feel pressure to do the same. Your OWLs are difficult enough.”

Ursula nodded and was quiet for the rest of class. When the bell rang, she told Gemma and Vanessa to go on without her to Arithmancy and she approached Professor McGonagall’s dress.

“What would I need to do to become an Animagus?”

There was no way to state the question but bluntly. Professor McGonagall looked over her glasses at Ursula with a look she later realized was pride.

“Please understand, Ms. Black, that what you wish to do is incredibly dangerous, very complex, and disastrous should you get it wrong. However,” a small smile graced her lips “you are one of the most promising students I have had in a long time, and I have confidence that should you continue, you would be successful.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ursula. “I know I want to do this.”

Professor McGonagall nodded.

“Very well. You know the process, and I shall assist you along the way. Each step is challenging, beginning with a meeting with a member of the Improper Use of Magic Office and the Animagus Registry. I assume your uncle would have no trouble setting such a meeting up over the summer,” said Professor McGonagall. “Once you have been approved to continue the process, you must hold a Mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month. This is the step that many find the most difficult, as sticking charms are difficult to maintain and often backfire.”

“Is there a Muggle way to go about it?” asked Ursula. “Perhaps in dentistry?”

“I believe that idea is worth following up on with Professor Burbage,” said Professor McGonagall. “Ms. Black, if you manage to pull this off, you could be considered for  _ Transfiguration Today’s  _ Most Promising Newcomer award. I hope you know how prestigious that would be.”

“I do, Professor, I do,” said Ursula. “You yourself won it.”

"That I did,” said Professor McGonagall. After a moment of hesitation, she reached into her desk and pulled out a small, tattered book, handing it reverently to Ursula.

“This book contains all the instructions you will need,” said Professor McGonagall, clearing her throat. “Inside are notes from both Professor Dumbledore and myself. Feel free to add your own. This book is for your use, and your use only, and I would advise against so much as letting another read it. Have you any more questions, you need only ask.”

“Thank you very much, Professor,” said Ursula. With great care she tucked the book into her bag and sped off to Arithmancy.

“What did you want with Professor McGonagall?” asked Gemma suspiciously when Ursula slid into the seat beside her moments before the bell rang.

“Oh, I just had a question for her,” answered Ursula, purposefully vague. “Nothing important.”

That afternoon, before dinner, Ursula and Vanessa went to Professor Kettleburn’s classroom to retrieve the kittens. They were very active — and very noisy — and the girls carried the basket between them all the way down to their dorms.

“Have you thought of names for them yet?” asked Ursula as they settled the kittens in.

“I don’t know,” answered Vanessa. “I want some flowery ones, you know? To go with Delilah. And maybe some star-inspired ones as well. What do you think about Iris?” She picked up the balck kitten, who had two different colored eyes.

“Excellent choice,” said Ursula, nodding. Stroking the reddish brown one, she said, “To go with that, how about Poppy?”

“I like Poppy a lot,” said Vanessa. “Aurora, for the last girl.”

“How about Orion, for the little boy?”

“Aurora, Poppy, Iris, and Orion,” said Vanessa approvingly. “I like that.”

The kittens proved to be a challenge, and on more than one occasion Vanessa would wake Ursula because one of them had gone missing or they all couldn’t stop meowing. On this particular Saturday morning, however, that is not what woke Ursula. This time, it was a bang like a firecracker.

“What the bloody hell was that?” exclaimed Gemma, looking around wildly for the source of the noise.

Ursula grabbed her wand off her nightstand. It was smoking and hot to the touch.

“My wand,” she said. “I think it was my wand.”

“Why would it go off on its own?”

“Thunderbirds are able to sense danger,” said Ursula, turning the wand over in her hands. “I suppose the feather core I have can do the same.”

“Danger?” said Gemma. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

After such an unsettling wakeup, the two girls were on edge as they headed out to the Quidditch Pitch after breakfast to watch the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game. Nothing at all happened, however, not during the teams’ warmups and certainly not during the match, which resulted in a narrow victory for Hufflepuff and left the Gryffindor team quite bitter. Neither Alicia nor Katie Bell could play this match, and the substitute chasers were poor, so despite Harry’s catch of the Snitch Gryffindor was far enough behind to lose.

“We have a shot!” Adrian was saying enthusiastically. “Now that they’ve lost, we have a shot at the Quidditch Cup!”

“Maybe your wand is broken,” suggested Gemma as they all got up and prepared to leave the pitch. “Who knows, you could always get it checked.”

But Ursula’s heart sank as Professor McGonagall suddenly came half marching, half running across the field, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

“All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!”

“What’s going on?” said Lilian. Vanessa clung to Cassius’s arm in terror.

“An attack,” said Ursula. “There must have been another attack.”


	40. The Chamber of Secrets

“Ursula! Ursula!”

“What is it, Draco?” asked Ursula as her cousin hurried over, an eager grin on his face and his voice an excited hush.

“Father’s here with the Minister!” exclaimed Draco.

“What?” That certainly got Ursula’s attention. “Why?”

“Well, that oaf Hagrid is being arrested!” said Draco, his glee obvious. “And get this — Father’s here to remove Dumbledore! The Board of Governors is suspending him.”

“Really?”

Draco nodded fervently, mistaking Ursula’s shock for satisfaction. It couldn’t have been Hagrid who was behind the attacks — it just wasn’t in his nature — and removing Professor Dumbledore certainly wouldn’t help anything.

“I always thought Father might be the one to finally get rid of Dumbledore,” he continued. “Everyone knows he’s the worst headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now. I don’t see why the Chamber of Secrets needs to be closed.”

Ursula’s face went stony.

“Draco,” she admonished sternly. “Don’t say such things! Professor McGonagall is in charge  _ until Professor Dumbledore returns _ , and she isn’t going anywhere.”

The attack on Penelope Clearwater and Hermione Granger rocked the school. Everyone was on edge and uneasy, the calm they had felt since the last double attack shattered. Students were once again shunted from one class to another by their teachers, their studying hampered by almost no time in the library and their Quidditch practices overseen by Madam Hooch and often another teacher as well.

This didn’t stop the Slytherin team from preparing for their match against Hufflepuff, however. They needed to beat them bad enough that Gryffindor or Ravenclaw would have to beat the other by an enormous amount to win the Quidditch Cup. All four houses had lost one match, so it was anyone’s game, and Slytherin wanted to win. They practiced practically every day, in all sorts of weather. They were ready, and they would win.

When Ursula wasn’t soaring through the air atop a broomstick or studying for the end of year exams, she pored over the tattered black book Professor McGonagall had given her, scribbling notes and making plans. She peppered Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, with questions until she knew what a ‘retainer’ was and decided that she could use it to keep the Mandrake leaf in her mouth. She wrote to Uncle Lucius so he could arrange a meeting with someone from the Improper Use of Magic Office and someone from the Animagus Registry.

Amid all of this, Ursula was receiving frequent letters from her father, her soon-to-be stepfather, and her grandparents, all about Ken and Tony’s upcoming wedding in early July. There were travel plans to be made, she needed a dress, and she was still trying to help Vanessa find homes for the kittens.

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. With Professor Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn’t look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled. Even Fred and George sobered in the days following his removal.

Professor Lockhart was more insufferable than usual, determined to cheer everyone up and convinced that he had known the attacks were Hagrid’s doing all along. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Lockhart appeared nothing short of buoyant when they arrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts Tuesday afternoon..

“Come now,” he cried, beaming at them. “Why so glum? Surely you know the danger has passed!”

No one believed him, and they certainly didn’t like being talked to as if they were young children.

“The culprit has been taken away —”

“Says who?” said Lilian loudly.

“My dear girl, the Minister for Magic wouldn’t have taken Hagrid if he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty,” said Professor Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining that one plus one made two.

“Oh, yes he would,” said Lee, even more loudly than Lilian.

“I flatter myself that I know a  _ touch  _ more about Hagrid’s arrest than all of you,” said Lockhart in a self-satisfied tone. Ursula rolled her eyes. She couldn’t wait for this year to be over.

On Saturday, thanks to a push by Professor Snape — and, in all honesty, Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the Board of Governors — the Slytherin versus Hufflepuff game took place. It was their best match yet.

Flint had drilled them on their strategy — keep the Hufflepuff seeker away from the Snitch by any means necessary, and score as fast as possible — and it worked, to say the least. The game lasted for nearly two hours, with Slytherin triumphing three hundred and ten to forty. It was brutal, with Peregrine and Lucian attacking the opposing chasers mercilessly and relentlessly hounding the keeper and Cedric, the seeker. Hufflepuff’s beaters were no match for them. Ursula, Adrian, and Flint flew better than they ever had, rocketing across the pitch in tight formations and taking full advantage of the speed that their broomsticks allowed.

To Ursula’s relief, no attack interrupted the game, nor did any come in the days that followed. The Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game took place the following weekend, and it was a nailbiter. Gryffindor had a fantastic team, but Ravenclaw wasn’t going down without a fight either. Their chasers — the Davies brothers, Chester and Roger, and Liliana Carter — were excellent and seasoned, a strong match for Angelina, Alicia, and Katie.

What truly led Gryffindor to victory was Fred, George, and Oliver Wood. Ravenclaw’s beaters were simply outmatched, and though both teams’ keepers were good, Wood played with an enthusiasm and sheer competitiveness that was unrivaled on the pitch. Ursula thought he might spontaneously combust after Gryffindor won — but not by enough to win the Quidditch Cup. Which meant —

“We won!” bellowed Adrian in Ursula’s ear. “We won, we won, we won!”

A tight-lipped Professor McGonagall handed a smirking Professor Snape the Quidditch Cup. The Slytherin section of the stands exploded into cheers as Flint hoisted the trophy above his head. During the ensuing celebration that carried them all the way back to the common room, Ursula was hugged and high fived by more people than she could count. Lucian spun her around, Draco boasted about his Snitch catch, and she and Peregrine jumped up and down together.

The Slytherins’ joy lightened the mood considerably, especially since many of them were still suspected to be the Heir of Slytherin, even though much of the school believed Hagrid to be guilty. Their elation carried them through the weekend, and couldn’t be dampened by the less-than-exciting news they received the next day.

Monday afternoon, Professor McGonagall announced that their exams would begin on May 31st, one week from today.

“ _ Exams _ ?” complained Cassius, draping himself dramatically across his desk.. “We still have to take exams?”

“Mr. Warrington, the whole point of keeping the school open is to continue your education,” said Professor McGonagall sternly, frowning at him. “The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I hope you are all studying hard.”

“Some harder than others,” muttered Lilian in Ursula’s ear.

Gemma, seated on Lilian’s other side, was deep into her rigorous studying routine, and it was starting to drive Ursula a little crazy. Staying up late and waking early, snapping irritably whenever she was interrupted, and randomly quizzing others on facts and figures made Gemma a difficult roommate. Ursula dealt with this by buying a large supply of Gemma’s favorite candy, telling her friend she was doing a good job, and keeping the snap out of her voice whenever Gemma drilled her over Charms or History of Magic before dawn.

The other students in Transfiguration were none too pleased that they would still have exams, but Professor McGonagall’s dark look kept the mumbling to a minimum. She reminded them again of Professor Dumbledore’s absence, and how he would want the school to function normally without him.

Three days before their first exam Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.

“I have good news,” she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

“Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people yelled joyfully.

“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”

There was an explosion of cheering. Soon, everyone who had been petrified would be back to normal and they would all get to go home for the summer. Now it wasn’t just the Slytherins who were celebrating, although Ursula was disappointed in the few who chose to bemoan the muggleborns’ recovery. Draco received a rather stern but still well-deserved lecture after Ursula overheard him expressing his wish that the monster had actually killed someone.

The fourth year Slytherins left breakfast to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts, talking the whole way about how, given their history with teachers on this particular subject, they hoped Professor Lockhart would be gone by the end of June and that they would never have to see him as a teacher again. Even Vanessa, who had been a long time admirer, had to admit that he was a terrible teacher.

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn’t as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

“Mark my words,” he said, ushering them around a corner. “The first words out of those poor Petrified people’s mouths will be ‘ _ It was Hagrid _ .’ Frankly, I’m astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary.”

“Whatever you say,  _ Professor _ ,” said Ursula quietly. Eventually the bell rang and eight of the Slytherins headed to Ancient Runes while the rest were shepherded down to the common room. Halfway there, her wand grew hot and she dropped it with a yelp.

“What is it —” Lilian began. But as she turned to see what the problem was, Ursula’s wand went off with a  _ BANG _ , a jet of red light scorching the nearest wall.

“Bloody hell!” shouted Cassius. Unable to explain what had just happened and desparately trying to ignore the pit of despair that had formed in her stomach, Ursula picked up her slightly smoking wand and hurried off to class.

Ursula was actually looking forward to her Ancient Runes exam, which would take place Wednesday of the following week; she had studied hard for it, and finally felt confident that she would do well. When the bell was supposed to ring, signalling the end of class, instead came Professor McGonagall’s voice, magically magnified and echoing down the corridors.

“ _ All students return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please. _ ”

“What’s going on?” asked Lilian, the first to break the silence and look towards Professor Babbling, who shook her head and looked troubled.

“I’m afraid I do not now. Back to your dormitories now, quickly.”

They did as they were told, joining the hundreds of others moving in tight knots as they hurried to return to their dormitories, where they would be safe. Vanessa rose, pale-faced, from her chair when they entered the common room and Ursula gave her a hug. No one had any idea what was going on, and it was a tense quarter of an hour before a grim-faced Professor Snape entered the common room. Every face turned to look at him at once, the entire room dead silent.

“The Heir of Slytherin has left another message,” he said slowly, “and a student has been taken.”

A quiet ripple of murmurs swept through them, silenced as they waited in terror for Professor Snape to go on.

“The student,” said Professor Snape, causing the room to practically lean towards him to hear the name, “is Ginny Weasley. The message reads ‘ _ Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.’ _ ”

Vanessa squeaked. Ursula swayed slightly, suddenly faint, and Cassius vacated his seat for her.

“The Hogwarts Express will take you all home tomorrow,” continued Professor Snape. “I cannot say whether Hogwarts will reopen next year or not.”

When the door to the common room shut behind him, it echoed through the silent room. A few murmurs here and there broke out as many of the Slytherins moved to their dorms, to discuss the horrible news.

“At least it was a Weasley,” said Draco, his voice a little too loud in the quiet room. He was among the least rattled by the news, but even he looked shaken. Ursula pressed a shaking hand to her brow. She couldn’t imagine how the Weasleys must be feeling.

“Shut up, Draco,” she said, just as loudly. Draco gaped for a moment, before skulking off to his dorm behind Blaise Zabini. Ursula stayed curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest, staring silently into space for the remainder of the day. Her friends sat around her, their conversation going in circles.

“She’s a pureblood,” said Vanessa in a whisper, her lower lip trembling. “Why was she taken?”

“This means it couldn’t have been Hagrid, right?” said Cassius, his gaze shifting to Ursula each time he said this. “So he’ll come back.”

“Is there even a Hogwarts for him to come back to?” said Adrian bitterly.

“Dumbledore never should have left,” added Gemma.

“But if Hagrid isn’t the culprit,” said Lilian, “then who is?”

None of them had an answer. It was a very long, sad day. Ursula was still seated on the couch after all her friends had gone off to bad, staring at the fire as it burned low in the hearth. Her eyes burned. Eventually she managed to drag herself to her dorm, where she curled up on her bed and held Betelguse close. Gemma hadn’t even bothered to study, and neither of them had begun to pack.

It was with heavy eyes and a heavy heart that Ursula lay there, the hours ticking by. She felt somehow that if she’d acted when her wand went off, maybe she would’ve been able to help. Maybe Ginny wouldn’t have been taken. Maybe she wouldn’t be dead.

Ursula didn’t get much of a chance to sleep, although she doubted she would’ve slept at all, when the students were roused from bed and told to come up to the Great Hall for a midnight feast.

“She’s alive!” shouted a student. Ursula burst into tears, tears of joy and tears of relief, and Cassius hugged her.

The whole school gathered in the Great Hall for the strangest feast any of them had ever experienced. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. Those who had been Petrified returned to rousing cheers, Hagrid arrived at half past three, and Professor Dumbledore was back. Ursula went over to the Gryffindor table as soon as she spotted the redheads she was looking for and hugged them.

Strangely, Ursula heard from Draco that Dobby had been freed. Now doubt Uncle Lucius was furious. She wondered why he had been here at all.

Most amazing of all, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had been the ones to save Ginny, and the four hundred points they earned for the heroic deed secured the House Cup for Gryffindor a second year in a row. Professor McGonagall announced that all exams were cancelled as a school treat (Gemma was furious) and one of the loudest cheers of all came when Professor Dumbledore announced that Gilderoy Lockhart would not be returning to Hogwarts next year, owing to him needing to regain his memory. Even the teachers cheered for that.

“We better get someone good this time!” shouted Cassius, to a gale of laughter.

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences — Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were cancelled and Lucius had been sacked as a school governor, since he was responsible for removing Professor Dumbledore in the first place. All that remained for them to do was a task that seemed quite trivial after all the excitement — find a home for each of Betelguese and Delilah’s kittens.

The task turned out to be easy. After what Ursula suspected was a great deal of begging, Iris went home with Lilian’s sister Alice. Aurora was going home with Leon as a gift for Beatrice, and Ursula was taking Orion home with her to give to Tonks. Poppy, the most rambunctious of the bunch with deep red fur, had picked a home for herself, although the person she picked took a bit of convincing.

“Cats love you!” said Ursula. “Even Francis, Josephine Burke’s mean old cat, likes you!”

“But I don’t know how to care for a cat!” protested Cassius, trying to move Poppy from where she had settled on his lap. She protested by purring louder.

“You can do it,” said Ursula. “If you really don’t want her, I’ll take her, but you have to look her in the eyes and say no.”

“Fine, I’ll take her,” said Cassius, giving in immediately. And within an hour, it was clear they were a perfect match.

“This was one hell of a year,” said Lilian, gazing out the window of the Hogwarts Express as fields rolled by. “Even if everything worked out in the end.”

“Hopefully next year will make up for it,” said Ursula, looking up from Professor McGonagall’s book.

“It better,” said Lilian grumpily. Ursula laughed and tossed her a Chocolate Frog.


	41. Azkaban

Azkaban was cold.

Cold seeped into his very bones, leached slowly through his veins, his heart trapped in the clutch of an icy, unforgiving hand. His head rolled back, scraping against rough stone marred by scratches, scratches that may have been his, scratches that may be older than he was. Bony back pressed to the damp wall, weak legs splayed on the bare floor, he trembled through his threadbare clothes.

A hand — or was it a paw, or something else entirely? — gripped a rusty bar, the touch of the metal biting. Had the bars always been so far apart? A rush of clothes, a creak of bones, the torn page crumpled in his pocket, and then he dissolved into a bundle of fur, matted and stretched over shaking limbs.

A sudden wave of despair flooded through the bars, swirling and searching for a soul to further break apart. He cowered, curling into the wall, the corner, frantic to avoid the icy hands and the frost that followed but too weak to do so.

Azkaban was cold.

His eyes stayed closed until some of the cold retreated, satisfaction stinging just as much. Bitter emptiness returned, the sudden burst of hate enough to propel him to his feet or his paws or whatever was carrying him towards the bars blocking his freedom.

Fur brushed against metal. He ducked as another wave of despair rolled in, but it paid him no mind. Was it madness or freedom he had reached? Did paws scraped raw slink through the shadows or was he still trapped, trapped in the cell, trapped in his own mind?

Wind roared suddenly, the spray of the sea freezing, but neither bit or stung as much as despair. Despair, regret, rage, guilt. His memories hurt the most, but when he plunged into the briny depths it was the memories that kept him afloat.

The water was cold.

Voices swam in his head as he paddled furiously to keep his head above water, voices that filled him with longing while waves of guilt crashed over his head. Was it the water that clung to his fur and threatened to pull him into the depths of the sea? Or was it the voices swirling around him that led him down, down, down towards the darkness?

A girl leaving home, her parents banishing her permanently. A small, quick wedding with half a dozen attendees, a baby wailing in her mother’s arms.  _ Did they make it through the war? _ A shouting match that turned into screaming, wands drawn and curses firing, one boy leaving, running, crying. A warm hug, two kind voices, the feeling of home. A funeral, arm thrown around his best mate, both awash in tears.  _ It’ll be okay.  _ A woman disappearing, presumed dead, hunted to be sure. Black hair peeking out under a white sheet. A child screaming.  _ Where was the child now? _

The water closed above his head.

A lanky figure, marred by scars, screaming and crying as the full moon rose in the sky, completely and utterly alone.  _ I’m so sorry Moony _ . A betrayal, a lie that cost him everything, everyone. A rat of a man standing in the street, dead bodies covered in rubble, being led away in chains and screaming to fill the void in his chest.  _ What had he done? _ Stepping into the house he can barely breathe, feet pounding on the stairs as he bolts passed the body, stopping at the nursery door afraid of what he’ll see inside.  _ A baby cries _ . Begging, begging to let him keep the boy, carrying him out of the house and cradling him on the front steps, sobbing and rocking back and forth, back and forth, praying this was all just a nightmare.  _ I’ll keep you safe. _

He gasped for air as his head broke the surface.

‘ _ Well, Padfoot? What do you think? _ ’ Messy black hair, hazel eyes that said  _ Welcome home _ , glasses perched above a smile so wide it hurt. ‘ _ Isn’t he perfect _ ?’ Deep red hair escaping a loose bun, sparkling green eyes, a gentle, tired laugh filled with joy. ‘ _ Yes. Yes he is. _ ’ The bundle was placed carefully in his arms, he smiled down at a baby with his hair and her eyes, promising over and over again  _ I will protect you. Nothing is ever going to happen to you, Harry. I’ll be there to keep you safe. _

The water was cold, but it was getting warmer. And Sirius Black swam on.


	42. The Wedding

“Dad!”

Ursula called out to her father as soon as she saw him. He was standing with Tony and a stern woman in a skirt suit that reminded Ursula distinctly of her governess.

“Hello Ursula!” said Ken, catching her in a hug. “Have you gotten taller?”

Ursula giggled. It was how her father started every meeting, but in this case she had gotten taller, although not much since Christmas. Ken now had only half a foot on her, and Tony only three inches. She hugged him as well.

“Hello son,” said Grandpa Laurie, giving Ken a hug. He and Grandma Maggie had arrived with Ursula, and he was already distinctly teary-eyed. According to his wife, he had cried during Uncle Bat’s wedding as well. “Tony,” he said, shaking his soon-to-be son-in-law’s hand.

“Hello dears,” said Grandma Maggie, hugging them both.

“Mom, Dad, Ursula, this is Eleanor Kelly, our wedding planner,” said Ken, gesturing to the woman next to him.

“Nice to meet you all,” she said, smiling as she shook each of their hands. She turned back to Ken and Tony, her voice brisk and businesslike. “I’ll meet you tomorrow at the venue to finalize decorations, yes?”

“Yes,” said Tony. “Nine o’clock.”

Eleanor nodded, smiled to them all, and left. Ken slung an arm over Ursula’s shoulders and led her inside Tony’s house, taking her suitcase from her.

“Your room is upstairs,” he said. “Mom, Dad, the guest bedroom is down the hall on the right. Honey, will you show them?”

“Yes dear,” replied Tony, giving Ken a quick kiss on the cheek. He led Laurie and Maggie down the hall while Ken took Ursula upstairs.

“Where’s Pepper?” asked Ursula.

“I knew you’d ask that,” said Ken. “She and Sergeant are outside.” He opened the door to Ursula’s room. “I hope you like it.”

The walls were a soft pink and the window and door frames were white. Yellow curtains embroidered with tiny pink flowers fluttered over the window, matching the bedspread and the pillows. The closet door was white, and Ken pointed to the flowers he had painted on as trim all the way around the room. There were even stars on the ceiling that glowed in the dark.

“It’s wonderful,” said Ursula. She began to unpack at once, but when she opened her closet door she found a red dress already hanging inside. She pulled it out, looking bemused.

“Do you like it?” asked Ken. “It’s so you can be my maid of honor.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” said Ken with a laugh. “Who else?”

“Thanks dad,” said Ursula, beaming. “The dress is lovely.”

“School ended well, then? Aside from the attacks, I mean,” said Ken, sitting on the end of the bed. Ursula nodded.

“Everyone recovered, and exams were cancelled as a treat,” she replied. “We had a very strange midnight feast to celebrate. I’ve decided to become an Animagus. Oh, and we won the Quidditch Cup.”

“Wait, what was that last part?”

“We won the Quidditch Cup.”

“Congratulations, that’s wonderful, but I mean before that,” said Ken. “You’ve decided to become an Animagus?”

“Yes,” said Ursula, closing her empty suitcase. “I discussed it with Professor McGonagall.”

“You do know it can be very dangerous, right?” said Ken. “Something could go wrong during the transformation, or it might not work, or —”

“Dad,” said Ursula, challenging him, “do you not think I can do it?”

“No, little one, it’s not that,” said Ken. “But as your father, it’s my duty to worry.”

“And as your daughter,” said Ursula, moving to give him a hug, “it’s my duty to tell you everything will be fine. I’m meeting with Ministry officials next month to discuss it. You could come, if you like.”

“Maybe I will,” said Ken. “So, you won the Quidditch Cup, exams were cancelled, and I’m assuming your classes went well, so how are your friends? Lilian, Cassius, Adrian? The other girls and your friends in other houses?”

“Everyone is recovering from the shock of the attacks,” said Ursula. “Cassius is on holiday in France and I expect Adrian is practicing Quidditch every day. His brother just graduated and is going to work at the Ministry. Lilian and Blossom are planning a trip to London together, and we’re all going to go to Diagon Alley when I get back. Gemma was actually a bit upset that exams were cancelled and since OWLs are next year she’ll be even more studious, if that’s possible.”

“I expect you’re studying hard as well?”

“Of course,” said Ursula. “I’ll have to study hard next year if I want to do well on my OWLs. It’s actually caused a bit of a rift between Gemma and I, being so competitive in our classes, but when we’re not focused on schoolwork we’re still good friends.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Ken. “Let’s go down, and Tony and I will tell you about our wedding plans. Sound good?”

Ursula nodded, following him out the door of her room. She was greeted immediately by Pepper and Sergeant, who wagged their tails as she said hello, even sitting next to her on the couch in the living room so she could continue to pet them.

“As you know, our wedding is on Saturday, July third,” said Tony. “Six days from now. Our out-of-state — and out of country — guests will begin arriving over the next few days, and many of them will be invited to the rehearsal dinner on Friday. Before then, our biggest task is to decorate the ceremony venue and the reception hall, which we’ll meet with Eleanor to finalize tomorrow.”

“All of our magical guests have been made aware that no magic — well, almost no magic — will be sued at the ceremony, save for the fireworks at midnight, which will not be performed directly in front of the Muggles,” said Ken. “But if anything does happen, Ursula, tell one of us or another adult. Aunt Gwen is arriving tomorrow and she has volunteered to take care of any such situation, and I do not doubt her abilities. She is… formidable.”

Ursula grinned. She’d only met her aunt once or twice, but she had no doubt that the witch could handle any disturbances.

“My best man is Mike Porter, my coworker and good friend,” said Tony. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. He’ll handle any issues on my side of the family. My two sisters are acting as bridesmaids, and my brother and Ken’s brother are groomsmen. We have seventy people coming, evenly split between friends and family.”

“Pepper and Sergeant here are our flower girl and ring bearer,” added Ken. “We’ve been training them for several weeks. Can you handle them on the day of?”

“Of course,” said Ursula.

“The only major thing we should talk about now is you meeting my side of the family,” said Tony. “I was thinking you could meet my parents tomorrow, and then we would all have dinner that night. That means both our sets of parents, my siblings and their kids, and Ken’s brother and his family. Does that sound doable?”

“I’m excited to meet your family,” said Ursula. “It sounds good to me.”

The next day, Ursula went with her father and Tony to the wedding venue, which was a curved courtyard with grass peeking through the cobblestones. It was quite rustic, and quite beautiful. A white wooden pergola that would soon be decorated with flowers sat at the top of the arch and similar white chairs would be laid out in rows. The trees bordering the courtyard were to be covered in twinkling lights, and the barn behind them would serve as the reception site so their guests could escape the heat of July in Arizona.

The barn had been used for weddings for many years now, and the interior reminded Ursula of any number of manor ballrooms, only with more wood. More lights would be strung between the rafters and flowers would dangle off the walls and decorate each table. Ken and Tony’s wedding colors were a soft, watermelon red and a bright blue, with white complimenting the greenery.

“Well done, Eleanor,” said Ken as the wedding planner finished the tour. “We’ll get the seating chart to you today.”

“Excellent, excellent,” said Eleanor, making a note on her clipboard. “I’ll see you tomorrow for a final meeting with the caterers.”

“Fantastic,” said Tony. Eleanor bustled off. “Well Ursula, are you ready to meet my parents?”

“I guess so,” said Ursula.

Ken Apparated the three of them to a park nearby. Tony stumbled when his feet him the ground, but his eyes were bright, the way they were every time Ken used magic around him. They walked out of the park and into a quiet neighborhood. Tony rang the doorbell of his parents’ house, and Ursula heard noise inside. She gulped as the door opened.

“Mamá, Papá!” said Tony, hugging both of his parents. His mother was short and had a very kind face. Ursula had a feeling she would get along with Grandma Maggie. His faller was tall and balding, but that didn’t stop him from having a large mustache.

“Hello mijo!” said his mother. “Come in, all of you, come in.”

They followed her inside. Ken shook Tony’s father’s hand and hugged Tony’s mother. Ursula stood there a little awkwardly.

“This is Ursula,” said Tony, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Hello dear,” said his mother, turning her warm smile on Ursula. She pulled her into a warm hug. “I’m Rosa.”

“I am Roberto Serrano,” said Tony’s father, shaking her hand firmly. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You may call me Bert.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” said Ursula, her smile genuine. “You have a very lovely home.”

“How kind. And what a fancy accent you have,” said Rosa. “Come, we shall get to know each other over lunch.”

She led Ursula through the house, past walls covered with family pictures, and into the dining room, where she had prepared a steaming meal. Over lunch, Rosa peppered Ursula with questions that she did her best to answer, while Bert mainly listened. Like his son, he was fascinated by magic, and whenever he chimed in it was invariably about magic.

“The school you go to. What was it called?” asked Rosa.

“Hogwarts,” answered Ursula.

“Right, Hogwarts. Ken tells me you’re a Slytherin, is that right? Oh good. So do all schools in Britain have houses? How interesting. And you said Hogwarts is in Scotland? What’s the weather like up there? Oh, it sounds very pleasant. And you have friends there, I hope? Boys too, my my. And —”

“What do you learn at magic school?” interjected Bert.

“We learn lots of different things,” said Ursula. “Everyone is taught about changing things into other things, making potions, doing spells, taking care of plants, the history of magic, defending ourselves from dark wizards and creatures, and astronomy. After a few years we get to pick what we want to study, and can choose from classes about magical creatures, predicting the future, deciphering runes, studying the magical properties of numbers, and learning about Muggles — people without magic.”

“Are there dark wizards then?” asked Rosa, furrowing her brow anxiously. Ursula reluctantly nodded. “I’d hate for any of them to attack you.”

“Thankfully, there are only a few dark wizards left,” said Ursula. There was only some truth in her statement, but she saw no reason to worry Tony’s parents. “It’s highly unlikely one would attack us, and it’s nearly impossible to break into Hogwarts.”

Rosa looked somewhat reassured.

“So which of those classes did you pick?” asked Bert with interest.

“My favorite is magical creatures,” said Ursula. “I also study numbers and decipher runes. I enjoy all of my classes, and another one I love is Transfiguration, which is where we change animals or things into other things.”

“Does it work on humans?” Bert’s interest grew.

“Sometimes,” said Ursula with a nod. “It depends on the spell.”

“Tell us about the sport you play, the one on broomsticks,” requested Bert.

“Quidditch is played by two teams of seven people,” explained Ursula. “Each team has three chasers, who try to score using a red ball called a ‘Quaffle’, a keeper, who tries to stop the opposing team from scoring, a seeker, who chases after a flying ball called the ‘Golden Snitch’ and tries to catch it before the other team’s seeker does, and two beaters, who hit heavy flying balls called ‘Bludgers’ at all the other players. Since it’s played on broomsticks, chasers like me try to score in one of the three hoops.”

She tried to sketch the Quidditch hoops in the air so Rosa and Bert could understand. She hadn’t really realized how absurd Quidditch was until she tried to explain it.

“Every house has a team, so there are four teams at Hogwarts,” she finished. “Each year the four teams compete to win the Quidditch Cup, and Slytherin won this year.”

“So you must be quite good,” said Rosa proudly. Ursula blushed. She admired that she could be proud of an accomplishment she barely understood.

“What’s it like?” asked Bert eagerly. “Flying on a broomstick?”

“It’s…” hesitated Ursula. “It’s pretty spectacular. It’s like being a bird, and the broomsticks we use can go up to pretty high speeds. It feels amazing to soar through the sky.”

“Is it dangerous?” asked Rosa. Again Ursula hesitated, but for a different reason.

“It’s not…  _ too  _ dangerous,” she said at last. “Any injuries you get can be healed in a snap by the school nurse.”

After a while, the conversation transitioned to Ursula’s family, and — after a series of increasingly vague answers — eventually to her father and Tony.

“What is your favorite thing that the three of you have gone on?” asked Rosa.

“We had dinner altogether on the last night of my visit last summer,” answered Ursula. “We arranged candles and flowers on the dining table and I got to help Tony make dinner. My dad —” she shot Ken a sly grin “— isn’t much of a cook.”

“Hey!” said Ken, while Tony laughed. His parents smiled.

“And what do you think about Tony and Ken getting married?” asked Rosa.

“I’m thrilled,” said Ursula with a beaming smile. “I love my dad, I want him to be happy, and I love Tony. I couldn’t be happier that my dad found someone as wonderful as your son.”

“Oh, you’re too kind, mija,” said Rosa. “We’ll see you tonight, yes? Then you can meet all the cousins.”

“Bye Mamá, bye Papá,” said Tony as they moved toward the door.

“Goodbye Rosa, Bert,” said Ken. “Great to see you, as always.”

“Goodbye,” said Ursula. “Thank you for the delicious meal. It was wonderful to meet you both.”

“Gracias, mija,” said Rosa. “Bye Tony, bye Ken.”

“See you later, Ursula,” said Bert. He and his wife waved as Ken, Ursula, and Tony left, Apparating back to Tony’s house as soon as they reached the park.

That evening, after an afternoon of cleaning the house, Ken and Tony were ready to host Tony’s family. They hadn’t needed to do much cooking, as everyone would bring something to share. Ursula put on a nice dress and a big smile as relatives began to arrive. First came Tony’s parents, thankfully, who hugged Ursula even though they had met her just a few hours ago. Then came his younger sister Marisol with her husband Vincente and their two sons.

“Ursula, this is Matteo and Rafael.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” said Ursula. Matteo was tall and lanky, a year younger than her and about her height. Rafael was eleven, and acted about as annoying as she expected.

“Nice to meet you too,” said Matteo, with a slightly forced smile. Rafael scowled.

“I wish I was out skateboarding, and not this stupid party with all these lame people,” he said, before pushing past her and running off towards the food.

“Rafael!” said his mother, proceeding to scold him in Spanish. Matteo nodded awkwardly to Ursula and sidled away.

Tony’s younger brother Felipe arrived next, with his wife Elena and his two children, Nicolas and Gabriella. Because they were only ten and eight respectively, they didn’t make for great company, but both were highly amused by Ursula’s accent and enjoyed hearing her say different words. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before Tony’s older sister Reyna and her husband Esteban arrived, bringing with them someone Ursula could talk to in the form of their two daughters.

Reyna’s eleven son Alejandro flounced right past Ursula, but her two daughters, sixteen year old Esmeralda and thirteen year old Rosita, were actually interested in talking to her.

“Mamá said you go to a boarding school,” said Esmeralda. Ursula nodded.

“It’s in Scotland, out in the country,” said Ursula. “We take a train to school at the start of term. It’s in this old fashioned castle.”

“So romantic,” sighed Rosita. Esmeralda rolled her eyes.

“Rosie thinks everything is romantic,” she said. “She could romanticize a beige wall.”

“Do you have a uniform?” asked Rosita, shooting a brief glare at her sister. “We do.”

Ursula nodded.

“Yeah, we have a uniform. What is your school like?”

“We both go to a private Catholic school,” answered Esmeralda.

“I hate the nuns,” grumbled Rosita.

“Since your dad lives here, who do you live with?” asked Esmeralda.

“My aunt, uncle, and cousin,” said Ursula. “My mother wanted me to grow up with her side of the family. My cousin is your age, Rosita, although I doubt the two of you would get along.”

“I’m happy with my friends, thanks,” agreed Rosita. “Me and Melissa and Tiffany and Angela and Kristin.”

“What are your friends like?” said Esmeralda. “Rosita has her group, and I mostly hang out with my two best friends, Veronica and Christine.”

“My best friend is a girl named Lilian,” said Ursula. “My other close friends include Cassius and Adrian, and also Vanessa and Blossom.”

“You have boys as some of your best friends?” questioned Rosita.

“Of course,” said Ursula. “Don’t you?”

“As if!” said Rosita.

“There aren’t many boys in my friend circle,” said Esmeralda. “The only boy I hang out with is my boyfriend.”

“Do  _ you  _ have a boyfriend?” asked Rosita.

“No,” said Ursula. “Well, Adrian and I dated for a couple of months, but we broke up in February.”

“How  _ are  _ the guys in Britain?” said Esmeralda.

“Esme!” said Rosita.

“What?” said Esmeralda with a giggle. “I’m just asking.” She sighed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Play any sports?” said Rosita.

“Yeah,” said Ursula. Panicking, she added, “Er — cricket.”

“Really?” said Esmeralda. “That’s not the answer I was expecting. I play soccer — football isn’t it?  _ Across the pond _ ,” she added, in a poor imitation of Ursula’s accent.

Ursula laughed. She spent the rest of the evening with Esmeralda and Rosita, and was both relieved and exhausted when it was over, glad to have allies and tired after a long day.

“We can clean up in the morning,” said Tony, when at last his family had left and he, Ken, and Ursula stood amid the remains of the party. Grandpa Laurie and Grandma Maggie had retired to their room.

“Why wait?” said Ken. He pulled his wand from inside his jacket. “ _ Tergeo _ .” Several wine spills and one mysterious stain likely from the punch siphoned out of the carpet, couch, and tablecloth. “ _ Scourgify _ .” Once the living room was clean, he ran his wand like a vacuum cleaner over the kitchen counter. “See honey? All done.”

Tony gave a tired laugh and pecked him on the cheek.

“Thanks dear. Night, Ursula.”

“Goodnight,” said Ursula. She wasted no time heading up to bed. She was exhausted.

~~~

“Hey Bat!”

“Ken, hi!”

Ken and Uncle Bat hugged, the latter arriving shortly after lunch the day after the party. Aunt Willa and Ursula’s cousins followed, accompanied by Newt and Tina. Several rounds of hugs went around, and Beatrice gushed nonstop to Ursula about how much she loved Aurora. Ken took his brother, father, and grandfather to the sanctuary while Ursula got her three cousins to help her make thank you bags and decorations for the wedding.

The next day, only three days before Ken and Tony’s wedding, the rest of the Scamander family who was coming arrived. Great Aunt Gwen and Great Uncle Jim came with their kids, Maud and Jacob, both of whom left their partners and kids at home on the opposite side of America. Like Maud and Jacob, two of Great Uncle Alistair and Great Aunt Rhiannon’s children — Maurice and Gwenllian — left their spouses and children in Britain, and Agatha, their third child, left her kids but brought her wife, Irvette. They all stayed in a nearby hotel, and Ken took them on a family tour of the sanctuary, to the interest of all.

“Ursula! Are you ready?”

“Coming, dad!”

It was the day before the wedding, and nerves were running high as they headed to the rehearsal dinner. Ursula discovered that her father got increasingly frazzled as time wore on, and tended to repeatedly remind Tony that he loved him. Tony, on the other hand, quadruple checked details and was on the verge of a breakdown if even one thing went wrong. Ursula did her best to act as a peacekeeper between them.

Ken Apparated them to the wedding venue, where some of the flowers had been arranged on the pergola and all of the chairs had been lined up for the rehearsal.

“Alright,” said Eleanor, clapping her hands for attention. “Jacob, you wait up there. The rest of you, line up back here.”

Jacob Maldonado, longtime friend and coworker of Tony, was to be the officiant, so he headed up to wait under the bedecked pergola while everyone else lined up at the start of the aisle.

“Tony’s parents, you come down the aisle first,” said Eleanor, leading Rosa and Roberto down and seating them on the right side. “Ken’s parents, you next.”

They had decided not to include any sets of grandparents in the procession, to lessen the sting of Roberto’s parents refusing to attend.

“Then Barnaby and Reyna,” said Eleanor. The pair strolled down the aisle, parting in front of Jacob and taking their place on either side of where the grooms would stand. “And Marisol and Felipe.” Marisol stood beside Uncle Bat and Felipe stood beside Reyna. “Best man, it’s your turn.”

Ken and Tony had quickly determined that it looked too awkward to have Ursula and Tony’s best man walk together, so Mike headed down the aisle alone and stood on Reyna’s other side.

“Now the maid of honor,” said Eleanor. Ursula walked down the aisle and took her place next to Uncle Bat. “It’s time for the flower girl and ring bearer.”

Pepper and Sergeant dutifully bounded down the aisle, a basket filled with flower petals swinging from her mouth and a cushion with the rings carefully tied on strapped to his back.

“Sit,” commanded Ursula quietly. Pepper sat beside her, wagging her tail. Sergeant sat beside Mike.

“And finally, the happy couple,” said Eleanor. Ken took Tony’s hand as they walked down the aisle together, beaming the whole way. Once they were in position — Ken on the left next to Ursula and Tony on the right next to Mike — Eleanor had them run quickly through the ceremony.

Jacob would greet everyone, thank them for coming, and explain what they were doing there, as if it wasn’t obvious. Then Ken and Tony would recite their vows, followed by the exchange of rings. Jacob would make the pronouncement, and Ken and Tony would go back up the aisle married, followed by their dogs, family, and friends.

Once they had finished the run through, Eleanor had them practice again, and again, and again. When at last they had finished, everyone traveled to Rosa and Roberto’s house for the dinner portion of the rehearsal dinner. Several other friends and family members — for instance, the grandparents who  _ were  _ in attendance — joined them there. Once everyone was seated and most of the way through whatever tacos they had selected to enjoy, Grandpa Laurie stood up to give a toast.

“Hello everyone,” he said, straightening his glasses so he could see the slightly crumpled piece of paper that held his speech. “I’m Laurence — Laurie — Scamander, Ken’s very proud father. I want to thank Rosa and Roberto for hosting this dinner and for raising a truly wonderful son. My wonderful wife Maggie and I are thrilled to have Tony joining our family.”

He paused, smoothing out his paper.

“Ken has always been very outgoing and very adventurous. He’s quick to make friends and determined to follow his dreams. He left home at eighteen to move to America and work at his dream job. As a child, he was always the first to try something new. He was the first to try a new food, the first to do something dangerous just to see if he could, the first to tell you if something was wrong. He was the first of my father’s grandchildren, the first to leave the nest, the first to make me a grandfather. But this wedding, this beautiful, joyous wedding, makes him the last to get married. All I can say is, thank goodness he waited.”

A laugh rippled through the crowd.

“Tony, you are everything Maggie and I wanted for our son. You are kind and smart and loving. You balance Ken out, and you are equally passionate about your work, your life, and your relationship. When we met you last Christmas, we knew you were a perfect match. We know you will be a great husband to Ken, and a great stepfather to Ursula, and we wish you luck, for all the years to come. Welcome to the family.” Laurie raised his glass. “To Ken and Tony!”

“To Ken and Tony!” everyone echoed.

The next people to stand up were from Tony’s side of the family: his older sister Reyna, and his younger siblings Marisol and Felipe.

“We won’t take long,” said Reyna, “but we wanted to take this time to thank everyone for coming and formally welcome Ken and Ursula into our family. Ken, we are so thankful that our brother found someone as funny, compassionate, and smart as you. We can tell you make him happy and that the love you share is strong, and that means everything to us.”

“Growing up with Tony, he was caring and sweet, if at times shy,” continued Marisol. “And annoying, but all brothers are, and he grew out of that. When he is passionate about something, he throws himself in wholeheartedly, and we can see that he has done that with both of you. Ken, know that Tony will always support you, love you, care for you, and make sure your relationship is as strong as ever. Ursula, we have no doubt that he will always be there for you and commit to being the best stepfather he can be.”

“We know that there was pressure for you to get married,” said Felipe. “From the family, from friends, and from the three of us, but we knew you would wait until the right person came along. And thank the Lord, Ken is that person. We are so glad you found each other, and we give you our blessing, hoping you will make a happy, loving family. Congratulations, Ken and Tony.”

“To Ken and Tony!” chorused Reyna and Marisol.

“To Ken and Tony!”

The last speech of the night was delivered by Uncle Bat, who made good on his promise to only say a few words, lest he begin to ramble emotionally.

“Good evening everyone, I am Ken’s brother Barnaby, known to some of you as Bat,” he said. “My brother has been my role model pretty much since the beginning. I can now admit, in front of my wife and children, that he is and always has been the cool brother, but Ken was always there for me, just as he will be for you and everyone else in your lives. Tony, I’m so happy that you’re joining our family, as only someone like you could keep up with Ken’s energy and enthusiasm. Don’t be fooled by Ursula, either. She may be sweet and caring, and she’ll love you forever, but she’s as spirited and determined as her father. Ken, you deserve the best, and you’ve found it in Tony. Good luck and congratulations, and may you be a wonderful, happy family. To Ken, Tony, and Ursula!”

“To Ken, Tony, and Ursula!”

Ken kissed Tony, then leaned over and hugged Ursula. The rehearsal dinner lasted perhaps another hour and a half before they headed home, excited and exhausted, happy and looking forward to the wedding the next day. The day turned to night, and dark clouds rolled over the twinkling stars, leading to the pitter patter of rain on the roof. They hadn’t been home long — Ursula had just put her pajamas on and was busy braiding her hair — when the phone rang.

“Okay. Got it. Is anyone — good. Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Ken hung up the phone and turned, ashen faced, to Tony. “There’s poachers at the sanctuary. At least two birds are missing.”

“Go,” said Tony.

“Are you —”

“Go,” Tony repeated. He gave Ken a quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” said Ken. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Then he disappeared out the door. Ursula laid in bed and opened her book, knowing that sleep would be hard to come by when she was worried. The storm outside worsened, and eventually Ursula heard the unmistakable sounds of Tony cursing and boots stomping down the stairs.

“Tony?” she said, wrapping herself in her dressing gown and following him downstairs. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Go back to sleep,” said Tony gently. Ursula shook her head and he sighed. “With all this rain, the venue is going to be muddy and the decorations ruined. I’m going to see what I can save before it’s too late.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Ursula. She dashed back upstairs before Tony could protest and changed quickly, wishing she had better rain gear. She stowed her wand up her sleeve just in case and hurried back downstairs, where Tony waited, car keys in hand.

The ceremony site was indeed a mess when they arrived, the rain pounding on the car’s windshield and drenching them the moment they stepped outside.

“There was no rain on the forecast!” shouted Tony over the wind. A rumble of thunder boomed around them, and a crackle of lightning from far away illuminated the scene for just a moment.

“The thunderbirds!” shouted Ursula back in a sudden realization. “When they sense danger, they can make it rain!”

The chairs had been stacked under a nearby awning, but the wind had tossed them into the mud splattering the courtyard. They had no hope of finding the lights strung in the trees through the rain, but those were the decorations they were concerned with. The pergola had been knocked over, the few flowers that had already been arranged on it long since blown away and the vines looking distinctly battered.

Tony pointed his flashlight at the barn door.

“Let’s bring everything inside!” he shouted.

It took them the better part of an hour to move and retrieve all seventy something chairs. They weren’t heavy, but the constant rain impeded their task significantly. Together Ursula and Tony lifted the pergola and carried it inside, at last shutting the doors to the barn behind them. Tony flicked on the light switch to better observe the damage.

“They’re ruined,” he moaned. Seventy-some white chairs stood before them, soaking wet and splattering mud, their white covers dirty and torn.

“Not quite,” mused Ursula, slipping her wand from her sleeve. It was technically illegal for her to do this, but…

“ _ Scourgify _ ,” she said, pointing her wand at the first clump of chairs. The mud vanished. “ _ Tergeo _ .” The water siphoned off, leaving the chairs dry enough to sit on.

“Ursula…” said Tony. She could tell, with all the stress piling onto him, that he was near tears. “You’re a miracle worker.”

“And you’re perfect for my dad,” she replied matter-of-factly, moving to the next group of chairs. It didn’t take her long before she had finished them all, noticing that now she and Tony were the only things covered in mud left in the barn. “The rain stopped.”

“So it has,” said Tony, cocking his head to listen. “That means the thunderbirds are safe, right?”

“Mmhm. Disaster averted,” she said.

“Two disasters,” corrected Tony, admiring the clean and dry chairs. “Thank you so much, Ursula.”

Ursula hugged him.

When they returned home, they found Ken waiting for them, distinctly rumpled with his muddy boots sitting by the door as he paced back and forth.

“There you are!” he said, face switching to relief as soon as they stepped through the door. “I was worried when I came home and neither of you were here!”

“You were worried!” quipped Tony. Despite the mud and the water, Ken pulled them both into a hug. “Is everyone at the sanctuary okay?”

“Three birds were captured, but we got them all back with only one injured wing between them,” recounted Ken. “No humans were hurt, and we caught six of the eight poachers involved. What happened to you two?”

“You explain,” said Ursula, extracting herself from the hug. “I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight Ursula!” chorused Ken and Tony.

“Goodnight dads!” she called back, before heading up to take a shower, rebraid her hair, and finally go to sleep.

~~~

“Ursula, have you seen my tie?”

“Right here!”

“Ursula, where’s my coat?”

“Check the bathroom.”

“If you see my brother tell him I’m looking for him.”

“On it.”

“Are Pepper and Sergeant ready?”

“Just about.”

“Ursula, where’s my tie?”

“You’re already wearing it.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Ken, adjusting it for the tenth time.

He and Tony were both frazzled and forgetful, getting ready in separate rooms at the barn as their wedding grew closer and closer. The florist had decorated everything beautifully and Eleanor had everything else under control, so it was up to Ursula to go back and forth between Ken and Tony and make sure they were doing okay.

“How do I look?” asked Ken, pulling on his suit jacket. He and Tony were the only ones wearing full suits. The groomsmen opted for suspenders, the bridesmaids for dresses. Ken and the groomsmen all wore light blue, while Tony and the bridesmaids wore red. Ken and Tony would be wearing matching white cowboy hats that Ken had bought just for the occasion.

“You look great, dad,” said Ursula, coming out of the bathroom in her own floaty red  [ dress ](https://www.dreamdressy.com/bmz_cache/0/045ccab164430727fe22f69e69f5d8c3.image.600x805.jpg) . “How do  _ I  _ look?”

“Like your mother,” said Ken softly, tearing up a bit. “Are those… are those her pearls?”

Ursula nodded, touching the strand of pearls at her throat. She almost never wore them, reserving them only for the most special occasions. This was one such occasion.

Ken hugged his daughter tightly.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You’re okay with Tony, right?”

“Yes dad,” said Ursula. “I love you, and I love him, too.”

“Alright then,” said Ken, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Ursula walked her dad to the door of the barn, where the rest of the procession was gathered. Tony’s eyes also glistened with tears, and he took Ken’s hand and held it tightly.

“Is everyone ready?” asked Eleanor, bustling over.

“Cleared and ready for take off,” said Tony. He was nervous. “I’m ready.” Ken squeezed his hand. “We’re ready.”

The music began. Guests turned as Rosa and Roberto passed, then Laurie and Maggie, then Barnaby and Reyna, Marisol and Felipe, and Mike, and then Ursula herself, heart hammering inside her chest. An  _ Aww  _ went up as Pepper and Sergeant trotted down the aisle, tails wagging jovially.

“Good girl,” whispered Ursula.

“Please rise for the happy couple,” said Jacob from under the beautifully decorated pergola.

Ken and Tony walked down the aisle hand in hand, beaming for the whole world to see. When they reached the officiant, they handed their matching white cowboy hats to Ursula and Mike and turned to begin the ceremony.

“Be seated,” said Jacob. “Sit.” Pepper and Sergeant sat, and another  _ Aww  _ went up in the crowd. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Ken and Tony, who have decided that their love is so strong, so great, that they have decided the only way to honor their love is to get married in front of those they love the most.”

“Love is strange, and fun, and difficult,” continued Jacob. “Love is an adventure, a commitment, a compromise. That’s what makes it love. Love is the best feeling in the world, and being loved is magical. Love is what brought Ken and Tony here today, and marriage is a celebration of that love, a celebration that will last for the rest of their lives. A marriage is not always easy, but a good marriage is rewarding. Marriage enables two people to entrust their happiness in each other, to honor each other as individuals and as a family, to love and laugh and live together for as long as they can.”

“Ken, as you look into Tony’s eyes, please recite your vows.”

Ken sniffed, wiped his eyes, and pulled a stack of cards from his jacket pocket.

“Tony… I don’t know what to say,” he began. “I don’t know how to tell you that I love you. I don’t know how to tell you that I am completely and utterly,  _ embarrassingly  _ in love with you. I don’t know how to tell you that every morning when I wake up beside you I feel incredibly lucky, or that every night I go to bed knowing you’re there with me my heart sings. I don’t know how to tell you that my world is better with you in it, that you have become one of the brightest stars in my sky, or that I can’t imagine not having you in my life now that you’re here.”

He paused, taking a slow, deep breath.

“I don’t know how to tell you just how much I love you. I don’t know how to tell you that I love you so much it makes my head hurt, that I spend the time we are apart waiting until we’re together again, or that I feel like I won the lottery when I met you. I don’t know how to tell you that you make me feel happy, that you make me feel safe, or that you make me feel loved. Since I don’t know how to tell you any of that, here’s what I do know how to say.”

Ken reached out and gently took Tony’s hand.

“I know that I love you. I know that I will never stop loving you. I know that my daughter loves you, and that you love her, and I love knowing that. I know that love takes work, and trust, and passion, and kindness, and I know I can give you all of that. I know you can do the same for me. I know that I can’t wait to call you my husband. I know we’ll be happy together, because we already are. I know love is a promise, so here is my promise to you.”

Tony wiped a tear away and beamed at Ken.

“Tony, I promise to make you happy. I promise to be your friend, I promise to hold you when you cry, and I promise to never be the reason for your tears unless they are tears of happiness. I promise to support you in everything, I promise to trust our love, and I promise to care for you. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t take promises lightly, and I promise I will never break any of these promises to you. Tony, my love, I promise to love you.”

Ursula found herself in tears at the end of her father’s speech, and she hastily dabbed her eyes with the palm of her hand.

“Tony, as you look into Ken’s eyes, please recite your vows,” said Jacob after a moment.

“I wrote a letter to you,” said Tony. “And I’d like to read it.” He unfolded the letter and took Ken’s hand once more. “Dear Ken… I fell in love with you not long after we started dating. I was under the impression we were in somewhat of a casual relationship when one morning I woke up and realized that I had fallen headfirst for you. I wasn’t sure if you loved me back, but when you revealed a deep, crucial part of your soul to me, I knew I had found someone magical. Someone perfect. Someone I could love, and someone who loves me back.”

“I’ll admit I’ve had doubts,” continued Tony. “I doubted if I was good enough for you, I doubted if I was deserving of you, I doubted if I could bear it if you didn’t love me as I love you. But every time a doubt crept in, you erased it. You fixed my doubts unknowingly, with cups of tea in the morning to a simple ‘I love you’ at night. And now, as I stand here with you, there is not a single doubt in my mind that I want to marry you.”

His eyes looked briefly over Ken’s shoulder at Ursula.

“I know I’m not just marrying you. Your daughter means the world to you, and the longer I know her, the more she means to me, too. I love your daughter, just as I love you, and together I know we will make a happy family. So I promise you, Ken, my love, that I will be there for you, that I will care for you and trust you and support you. I promise to love you wholeheartedly, as I already do. My head and my heart have never been more certain than when it comes to you. I love you. Love, Tony.”

Tony was crying now, as was Ken and a good portion of their guests.

“P.S. Our relationship has been truly magical,” said Tony, laughing slightly now, “in more ways than one, and I love you, and Ursula, more than anything else. I’m so excited to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Two very beautiful speeches,” said Jacob. “Do you, Kenneth Newton Scamander, take Anthony Roberto Serrano to be your lawfully wedded husband from this moment forward, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, through good times and bad, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” said Ken without hesitation, his eyes shining.

“Do you, Anthony Roberto Serrano, take Kenneth Newton Scamander to be your lawfully wedded husband from this moment forward, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, through good times and bad, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“May we have the rings.”

Mike picked up Sergeant so Ken and Tony could untie the rings from the pillow on his back.

“Ken, as you place this ring on Tony’s finger, please repeat after me.”

“With this ring,” said Ken, repeating each phrase after Jacob said it. “I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands.”

“Tony, as you place this ring on Ken’s finger, please repeat after me.”

“With this ring,” said Tony, choking up a bit. “I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands.”

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom!”

Ken was kissing Tony before Jacob had even finished, their guests cheering and rising to their feet. Ursula whistled and wiped away her own tears. Ken and Tony put their cowboy hats back on and headed up the aisle towards the barn, married and absolutely radiating joy.

Their guests were barely inside when the music started up, and everyone found their seats as Ken and Tony went right to their first dance. It was clumsy and ridiculous, but that made it all the more special and fun. Tony laughed as Ken tried to dip him,  _ All You Need Is Love _ playing in the background. Ken’s hat fell off as he spun out, but he made up for it by giving his husband a kiss.

“ _ All you need is love. _

_ All you need is love. _

_ All you need is love, love, _

_ Love is all you need. _ ”

Eventually the song wound its way to a close, and Tony dragged Ken off the dance floor and to their table so their hungry guests wouldn’t be kept waiting any longer. Dinner was served and enjoyed as dusk crept in, the lights in the trees outside shimmering like the stars above. There were many toasts to be had, from Roberto and Mike, and the newlyweds themselves, but Ursula was about to give the first.

“Hello everyone. My name is Ursula Black,” she began, the room quieting as she stood up. “I want to start by thanking you all for coming to celebrate today. I love my dad very much. He is my role model, and my hero, and I look up to him in every way. It was the Christmas before last that I asked him if he ever considered dating, and it was then that he told me he already was. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted someone for him who would treat him well, and take care of him, and match his zest for life. I wanted him to find someone kind, compassionate, and sweet. Tony checks all of those boxes.”

She saw Tony beam, Ken’s arm slung around his shoulders. The sight made Ursula grin more.

“Our first meeting, just days over a year ago, was awkward, I’ll admit, but why wouldn’t it be? Then, I didn’t know if my dad’s boyfriend was the right match. But by the end of my visit, I knew I liked Tony, if I didn’t quite yet love him. I knew that my dad had found someone smart and kind and just as passionate as he is, and I knew that if their relationship progressed, I would be happy.”

Even with all the faces staring up at her, she felt at ease, and she spoke from the heart. Well, she spoke from the speech she had memorized which had been written from the heart.

“Christmas rolled around, and it was then that I knew that Tony would be here to stay. Why else would my dad bring him over for the holidays? When my dad told me he was planning to propose, I was thrilled. And when Tony accepted, I was elated. I had seen for myself that he treated those around him with respect, that he was willing to put the time in to form a bond with me — we spent hours building an architecturally sound gingerbread house, just the two of us — and that he was a perfect match for my dad. It’s hard to believe they’re married already, but I’m so pleased that they are. I’ve never doubted that the two of them make an amazing, loving couple, and I’m thrilled to be part of this family. I feel lucky, not just that my dad has found such a terrific partner, but that I have gained such a wonderful parent.”

Ursula raised her glass to Ken and Tony, the cider inside sparkling.

“I love you both. Congratulations, to my dads!”


	43. The Meeting at the Ministry

Ursula received her Hogwarts letter the very last week of July. She had returned home after her father’s wedding and spent the following weeks playing Quidditch with Draco and tending to the garden at Corvus Manor. Dimsey and Helgie kept the house in excellent shape while she was away at Hogwarts, and when she was home, Ursula found herself spending more and more time at Corvus Manor.

Lucius was still seething over Dobby’s liberation, so Ursula kept her house elves well clear. He had made no plans for a replacement, however, so Weesy would suffice. Ursula’s meeting with the Improper Use of Magic Office was only two weeks away. She had acquired a retainer from a Muggle dentist in London — the Grangers had been quite lovely — and if her meeting went well she would soon have the Mandrake leaf necessary to begin the process.

Of course, all anyone could talk about was Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban. No one had ever escaped before, and no one could figure out how he did it. Luckily for Ursula, she felt quite safe tucked away in the countryside. The Weasleys were quite lucky as well; she saw in the paper Arthur Weasley had won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw, and would be spending the summer on holiday in Egypt.

“Letters for you, Ursula, Draco,” said Lucius, absorbed in the Daily Prophet as usual.

“Finally,” drawled Draco, opening his letter eagerly.

Ursula moved her own newspaper off of her plate and deftly opened the yellowed envelope, lifting the wax seal with her letter opener and pulling out the letters within. The envelope felt distinctly heavier than usual, and she tipped a silver and green badge into the palm of her hand.

“Ah, a Prefect’s badge,” said Lucius approvingly, lowering his newspaper. “Well done.”

Ursula smiled, turning the badge over in her hand, admiring the large P emblazoned in the Slytherin snake. She quite liked it. She would have to owl her friends and see who else had received a badge. She set the badge aside as Weesy set a plate of food in front of her and sipped her tea as she unfurled her newspaper.

**BLACK STILL AT LARGE**

_Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

_“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”_

_Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

_“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,” said an irritable Fudge. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it — who’d believe him if he did?”_

_While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse._

“How long until they catch him?” said Ursula rhetorically, tossing the paper aside as well. Sirius’s gaunt face stared up at her, pale and sunken, his skin waxy and his eyes shadowed. His eyes were the only part of him that seemed alive. Ursula turned the paper over. She recognized the expression in his eyes and it unsettled her.

“Utter incompetence is how he escaped in the first place,” said Lucius dryly. He would never say such a thing to Cornelius Fudge, of course. “They say he was You-Know-Who’s right hand man.”

Ursula knew that was a load of rubbish. Draco, however, did not.

A quiet _pop_ sounded, and a moment later Helgie hurried into the dining room, heading straight for Ursula.

“Mistress Ursula!” she puffed, looking quite anxious.

“Yes Helgie?” said Ursula. “What is it?”

“Ministry men, miss,” squeaked Helgie, her eyes huge. “They wants to search the manor, they does. Dimsey tells them, not without the mistress, he does, so Helgie comes here to get you, miss.”

“Merlin’s beard,” swore Ursula under her breath. “Thank you, Helgie.”

“I’ll come, too,” said Lucius, already rising to his feet. She could hear him muttering, “ _The audacity, thinking they can search Corvus Manor_.”

Helgie took them from one dining room to another, and Ursula could hear shouting and pounding at the front door. She hurried to the entrance hall, where Dimsey was dutifully keeping the doors shut using his elf magic, his bullfrog voice rising above the shouts.

“Open the door or we’ll blast it down, elf!” shouted one of the men outside. Dimsey had trapped them in the entryway, between the great front doors and inner doors with windows that allowed Ursula and Lucius to see the four or so men pounding inside, unable to get in or out.

“Not without the mistress,” croaked Dimsey, head held high. “This here is her house, it is, and Dimsey won’t open the door until she tells Dimsey to.”

“I’m here!” said Ursula, crossing quickly to him. “Open the door, Dimsey.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Dimsey. He snapped his fingers, and the doors opened. The Ministry men tumbled inside, at least one falling, all grumbling as they dusted themselves off.

The one in the lead looked like he wanted to curse Dimsey, so Ursula took a protective step in front of him just in case, staring coolly at the grizzled man with a mane of hair rather like an old lion.

“And you are?” she said.

“Rufus Scrimgeour,” he growled, straightening. “Head of the Auror Office.”

“Pleasure,” said Ursula, just as calmly as before. She could see the other three Aurors sizing her up in disbelief. “And your men?”

“Alastor Moody,” grunted one of them before Scrimgeour could speak. He was missing part of his leg, and his electric blue magical eye swiveled continuously in its socket.

“— Gawain Robards and Kingsley Shacklebolt,” finished Scrimgeour. Ursula turned her gaze upon the latter.

“Ah, Kingsley, how wonderful to see you again,” she said. As an old friend of her father’s, Kingsley had been at his wedding just a few weeks ago.

“Ms. Black,” he said smoothly, the only calm Auror in the bunch.

“What is your business here, Mr. Scrimgeour?” said Ursula.

“We’re looking for a murderer,” said Scrimgeour darkly. “Sirius Black. Thought he might try to contact you.”

Lucius bristled immediately.

“Who are you to assume such things about my niece? She’s never even met the man!”

“We’re doing our job, Mr. Malfoy,” said Scrimgeour. “May we _finally_ be allowed to do it?” It clearly irked him to seek permission from a fifteen year old girl.

“My house elves will take you through the house,” said Ursula, waving at Dimsey and Helgie. “Try not to break anything.”

Ursula led Lucius to the library while the Aurors searched the house. She knew Sirius Black was nowhere to be found, and while there were a myriad of other items that could potentially be of interest to the Ministry, they weren’t exactly out in the open. Even Moody’s magical eye couldn’t see through the charms that protected certain parts of the house. She trusted Dimsey and Helgie to keep an eye on the Aurors and keep any secret rooms what they were — secret.

She saw her uncle get more and more irritated the longer the search went on. Her breakfast had long since grown cold at Malfoy Manor by the time Scrimgeour reluctantly declared the search over with no results. Ursula saw them out with cool satisfaction.

“You handled that well,” said Lucius when the Aurors were gone. “I’m going back to Malfoy Manor; have to make sure the Ministry doesn’t come poking around there as well.”

“I’ll go back later,” said Ursula. “I have some letters to write.”

“Very well,” said Lucius. “Don’t forget that Narcissa is taking you to tea at three.”

“Yes, Uncle,” said Ursula. “I’ll be back before then.”

And she was. She had Helgie bring her some breakfast, and sat at her desk in front of the drawing room window to write letters to her friends, and one to her financial advisory board. It was high time she checked up on them. So much had happened in such a short time over the morning that Ursula didn’t return to Malfoy Manor until lunch, needing a break in case any more excitement was coming her way.

Thankfully, nothing else waited to surprise her, and she had the promise of a visit to Diagon Alley with Lilian and Vanessa to look forward to at the end of the week, and to get her through a dreadfully dull tea that afternoon with the Parkinsons and the Orpingtons. She received prompt replies from each of her friends — Cedric and Blossom were the Hufflepuff prefects and, much to his utter shock, the other Slytherin prefect was Cassius — and a meeting with her advisors was set up for Saturday, so she could meet her friends when she was finished.

“You’re sure you’re fine to go on your own?” said Narcissa on Saturday. It was nearly eleven o’clock, and if her aunt fussed any longer, Ursula was going to be late.

“Quite sure, thank you,” she said. Gripping her purse tightly, she tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and shouted, “ _Diagon Alley_!”

She stepped out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron, dusting herself off and nearly colliding with an elderly witch nearby.

“So sorry ma’am,” she said, steadying them both.

“No harm done, dear,” said the witch, patting her on the arm. Ursula smiled and moved past her, pulling out her wand to tap the correct brick in the small courtyard — three up and two across from the trash can — and stepping through the entryway and into Diagon Alley.

The long cobblestone street wasn’t too crowded as Ursula strolled up towards Gringotts. She took note of the other shoppers, squat little witches up from the country for a day trip, venerable wizards arguing over the latest article in _Transfiguration Today_ , and families with kids still too young for Hogwarts clinging to their parents’ arms.

Ursula entered Gringotts and was ushered through the door on the left. Kieran Cooke was no longer the secretary, and a pretty brunette greeted her at the front desk.

“Good day miss,” said the witch. Her name plate read _Abigail O’Brien_. “Name and appointment, please.”

“Ursula Black,” replied Ursula. “Here for a meeting with my board of advisors.”

“Of course! How do you do, Ms. Black?” said Abigail breathlessly, jumping up at once. It was no secret that Ursula’s account provided quite a boost to those in the advisory department.

“Very well, thank you. And yourself?”

“Oh, you know, same old same old,” Abigail said, gesturing around. “Your advisors are waiting in Conference Room A. Please, this way.”

She led Ursula to the third door on the right, and opened it for her.

“Thank you, Ms. O’Brien,” said Ursula as she stepped into the conference room.

“You’re quite welcome, dear,” said Abigail, shutting the door behind her.

“Hello Ms. Black,” said Alasdair Evans, reaching out to shake her hand. He and the rest of the board had stood up when she entered. “So nice to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Evans,” said Ursula. She sat at the head of the table and the others followed suit. There were seven people on her advisory board, plus Edwin Graham who served as her legal counsel and was not present at the meeting.

Alasdair Evans sat on her left, and the rest of the board took their cues from him. Next to him was Kieran Cooke, looking eager as ever, and then a plump, middle-aged witch with red hair named Susan Montgomery whom Ursula quite liked. At the opposite end of the table sat Rupert Gray, a rather dull man, then Leonard Wilson and Bernard Adams on the right, two elderly wizards who often bickered with each other. The final seat on Ursula’s right was occupied by a young man with glossy brown hair whom Ursula was sure she recognized as Hector Greengrass, the older brother of Malcom Greengrass who had acted as Slytherin’s reserve keeper for the last two years, until his graduation. He had been a seventh year during Ursula’s first year.

“This is Hector Greengrass, our new appointee to the board following Mr. Cunningham’s, er, retirement,” said Mr. Evans. Jonathan Cunningham was an ancient man who, in his old age, seemed to have a screw or two loose the last time Ursula saw him. He had been forced into retirement after a meeting with the Rowle family in which he had suggested four bogus investments, promptly fallen asleep, and then, upon waking up, decided to take off his shirt. Hadrian had recounted the whole thing in detail to Ursula; his mother had been scandalized.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Black,” said Hector, shaking her hand.

“Yours as well, Mr. Greengrass,” she replied. “Shall we get down to business?”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Evans, pulling a sheaf of papers from his briefcase. “I have little to report when it comes to your late grandfather’s investments, other than to say they are still making handsome profits. As you know, a sizable investment was made on your behalf to Randolph Spudmore and his company, and if the Firebolt sells as well as we predict, you will more than make back the money in no time.”

Ursula nodded, pleased.

“Several members of this board have come up with new ideas, based on the success of your current investments” continued Mr. Evans. “We hope that the popularity of one hair product will lead to boosts in the sales of similar products, so without further ado I shall let the other board members each present their ideas. Mr. Gray, you first.”

“There’s a new Lunascope that identifies constellations as well as tracking the phases of the moon,” offered Mr. Gray.

“No, I don’t think it’s quite worth it,” said Ursula. “But it’s a nice thought.”

Mr. Adams went next, pitching first a mirror that shows you what you want to look like that Ursula considered a bit boring and narcissistic, then a personal flying carpet that she deemed doomed to fail and likely illegal, and finally an enchanted curling iron, which Ursula pointed out was unnecessary, as there was a spell for that. She thanked him for his suggestions as Mr. Wilson stood up to take his turn.

“Since Sleekeasy’s Hair Potion is so popular, how about a hair tonic for bald men?” said Mr. Wilson. Ursula frowned. Across the table, Susan Montgomery looked as if she was just bursting with something to say.

“Yes, Mrs. Montgomery?” said Ursula.

“Well, with all due respect, Mr. Wilson, I don’t think that’s the kind of thing Ms. Black is looking to invest in,” said Mrs. Montgomery, a bit hesitantly. She adjusted her pink sweater as she spoke. “Her investments fall into one of two categories: things with mass appeal, which is why a Lunascope is not a good choice, or products she would use herself, which is why a mirror, an enchanted curling iron, and a tonic for bald men isn’t inviting.”

Ursula surveyed her, grey eyes twinkling. She grinned.

“My thoughts exactly, Mrs. Montgomery,” she said. The woman in question beamed. “Have you any ideas?”

“Oh — yes, as a matter of fact I do,” said Mrs. Montgomery. She pulled out a brightly colored poster from under her chair. “As I said, your investments tend to either appeal to lots of people or appeal to you personally, and Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion does both, so I wanted to find a similar product and I think I have: Amora’s Perfume. It uses much of the same ingredients as Amortentia, but instead of manufacturing love it makes the user smell like a range of scents, such as flowers, citrus, and other generally pleasant scents.”

“Does it smell different to each user or to those around them?” asked Ursula, intrigued.

“Both I believe,” said Mrs. Montgomery. “Whichever of the available scents smells most pleasant to the individual is the one their nose will detect. It’s currently very popular in France, and is growing in popularity here.”

“I like it,” said Ursula. “Great work, Mrs. Montgomery. Make whatever investment you think is suitable.”

Mrs. Montgomery blushed pinker than her sweater.

“Yes Ms. Black. A representative of the company expressed interest in arranging a meeting, were you to agree,” said Mrs. Montgomery.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” said Ursula. “Is there anything else to discuss today?”

“I believe that is all,” said Mr. Evans. “Lovely to see you as always, Ms. Black.”

“You as well,” said Ursula, rising to her feet. “Gentlemen, Lady, good day to you all.”

A chorus of ‘Good day’ and ‘Pleasure to see you’ and ‘See you again’ followed her out the door. Abigail was waiting to escort her back to the door, all smiles and polite chatter. Ursula bid her goodbye and left Gringotts, her pink skirt bright against the white marble steps.

She strolled back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, and to wait for her friends to arrive. Ursula had just finished her sandwich when she heard a yelp, and turned in time to see Blossom tumble out of the fireplace. Ursula grinned, paid for her meal, and hurried to meet her friend.

“Ursula! Hi! How’s your summer been? How was the wedding? I’m so happy to see you!” babbled Blossom, throwing her arms around Ursula. While Ursula had grown an inch or so, Blossom hadn’t, and was still a head or so shorter than her friend.

“I’m glad to see you as well, Blossom dear,” said Ursula. “The wedding was beautiful and my summer was lovely. What about you? How was France?”

“Simply divine,” said Blossom with a sigh, twirling a little. Her blonde curls were hidden under a lavender hat that matched her purple dress.

“Well don’t start the reunion without me!” came Lilian’s cheerfully indignant voice as she burst from the fireplace and dusted herself off. With her yellow tank top patterned with daisies, the three girls made quite a colorful group. “Been waiting long?”

“I only just arrived,” said Blossom, linking arms with them both and marching them out to the little stone courtyard. Ursula took the liberty of tapping the brick with her wand.

“I had lunch, but only because I was visiting Gringotts before that,” she said as the archway assembled itself.

“Had a fancy meeting, did we?” teased Lilian. “Oh, and congrats to you both for being appointed Prefects, I knew you would.”

“Didn’t you have some sort of bet going with Cassius?” asked Ursula.

“Yes, and thank you for reminding me,” said Lilian. “He owes me ten Galleons for getting his own badge.”

“Cedric seemed shocked in the letter he sent me,” said Blossom. “Always so humble; we all knew he was a shoe-in. Oh, and he was appointed Quidditch captain as well.”

“Was he?” said Lilian. “That’s quite an accomplishment, though definitely well deserved. Here’s the Apothecary. I know I need Potions ingredients and I assume the two of you do, too.”

There were only a few customers in the Apothecary, so they gathered the necessary supplies and paid quickly. Next door was Quality Quidditch Supplies, and all three stopped to purchase something, to Ursula’s surprise.

“Neither of you told me you were planning on trying out!” accused Ursula as she picked out a new broomstick servicing kit.

“Must have slipped my mind,” said Blossom innocently, inspecting the chaser’s gloves.

“I only want to be the reserve keeper,” said Lilian, blushing.

“Still,” said Ursula. “And pick these gloves, they’re the best.” She handed Lilian the gloves and walked to the counter to pay.

“I wish I could afford a Firebolt,” said Lilian dreamily. “You couldn’t lose with one.”

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” said Ursula. “I had to remind myself how much I like my current broom.”

“Mmhm,” said Blossom, finally tearing her eyes away from the display.

The other two paid, and the three of them headed two doors down to Flourish & Blotts to buy their new schoolbooks. Along with _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_ and new copies of _The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts_ for them all — Blossom’s had been dropped in the mud, a Forgetfulness Potion spilled on Lilian’s, and Ursula’s was in tatters after being hit by a nasty explosion when her wand went off on its own — they had a new Care of Magical Creatures book to buy.

_The Monster Book of Monsters_ were busy tearing each other apart in a large iron cage behind the glass, where usually a display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs stood. There were about a hundred copies in the cage, torn pages flying, as the books grappled with one another, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

“Excuse me, sir?” said Ursula to the manager. He looked at them through thick spectacles with a smile. “We’re ever so sorry, but we need three copies of, er, _The Monster Book of Monsters_.”

The manager paled immediately, his smile falling. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves and seized a large, knobbly walking stick.

“As you wish, ladies,” he said, before proceeding on wobbly legs toward the door of the cage.

It took him several minutes to extract the three copies, with many yelps as the manager fought to keep the books from ripping each other apart, jabbing them with his walking stick and crying out whenever one bit him. A snarling copy went to Lilian, then one that had already been tied shut to Blossom, and finally the manager all but threw the third copy at Ursula, who caught it and dropped it at once, stomping hard on the book, which subdued it long enough for her to slip a length of a rope hastily provided by the manager around it.

“There has to be some way to stop it,” muttered Ursula, holding the snarling book at arm’s length.

“If you find one, miss, I’d like to hear it,” replied the manager, wiping sweat from his brow.

They paid for their books and continued down the street to Madam Malkin’s to get measured for new robes. When they emerged twenty minutes later, the brightly colored display outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour enticed them to stop for ice cream.

“Chocolate and vanilla for me,” said Blossom, “with lots of sprinkles, please.”

“I’ll have mint chocolate chip,” said Lilian, “with chocolate syrup.”

“Strawberry and lime with plenty of whipped cream, thank you,” said Ursula. “I’ll pay.” her friends protested immediately, but she held up a hand. “I’ll pay.”

When their large ice creams had been finished, they gathered their parcels and continued past Gringotts to the Magical Menagerie to pick up treats for their various pets. Ursula admired a large ginger cat that rather reminded her of Betelguese, giving him a good scratch behind the ears before leaving.

“I need to stop at Twilfitt and Tatting’s, if the two of you don’t mind,” said Ursula. “Before we go to Madam Primpernelle’s. I ordered some clothes that I need to pick up.”

“I don’t see why it would be a problem,” said Lilian. “Did you order a lot?”

“Oh, just a few,” said Ursula with a shrug. “Just some blouses and skirts and the like, a dress or two as well.”

“Is it strange, ordering clothes from a shop, I mean?” asked Blossom. “Instead of just going into a store and buying them?”

“Not very,” said Ursula. “I suppose it is, a bit, when you put it like that, but it is not much different.”

A quiet bell tinkled as they entered the upscale store, decorated with low, velvet upholstered chairs and a tea table or two, with doors leading to fitting rooms and a well dressed witch behind the counter who gave them a pretty smile as they came in.

“I have an order to pick up,” said Ursula.

“Yes, Ms. Black, it’ll just be a moment,” said the witch with another pretty smile. She ruffled through a sheet of papers for a moment, before extracting Ursula’s order, and then she waved her wand. A string of parcels soared out one by one from the backroom, stacking themselves neatly on the counter.

“How are you planning to carry those?” asked Lilian dryly.

“Easily,” replied Ursula. She opened her back and shoved her broom kit, books, robes, and cat treats deeper into the bag, until her whole arm seemed to have disappeared. Seeing her friends’ stunned looks, she added, “I fitted it with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Not a large one, but you can still fit quite a lot in it.”

She slid the parcels into her bag with no problem, thanking the witch behind the counter and checking her order had indeed been paid, and then she, Blossom, and Lilian headed to their last stop.

Madam Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions was a popular stop for teenage and adult witches, not just for pimple cures but for all sorts of makeup. While some products were imbued with magic, Muggle ones often worked just fine. The shop was brightly colored, all pink and purple and yellow and blue, and everyone inside seemed to be cheerful and slightly giggly.

The three girls picked out what they wanted, from color-changing lipstick to a mascara that applied itself via a magic brush. They emerged from the shop slightly pink and very pleased with their whole shopping trip.

“It was wonderful to see you both,” said Blossom as they wound their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, the afternoon sun glittering overhead.

“Yes, I’m so glad we got to spend some time together,” agreed Lilian.

“It was a truly marvelous trip,” said Ursula. “Goodbye to you both. I’ll miss y’all until September.”

“Me first,” said Lilian. She tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and was gone a moment later.

“Blossom, dear, why don’t you go next?” said Ursula.

“Bye!” said Blossom cheerfully, as she followed Lilian into the fire.

When she too had disappeared, Ursula clutched her purse and her bag and said, “ _Malfoy Manor_.” Soon, she tumbled out of the drawing room fireplace and grinned at Draco, who happened to be reading when she arrived.

Just over a week later, and Ursula’s meeting with the Misuse of Magic Office and the Animagus Registry arrived. She had all the necessary paperwork filled out and was anxious all morning before the meeting. She dressed nicely, taking great care to arrange her curls, and despite her nerves she stayed calm and collected when it was time for Lucius to bring her to the Ministry of Magic.

“I am Frederick Spindle, head of the Misuse of Magic Office, and this is Flora Rook from the Animagus Registry,” said the stern, grey man in charge of the meeting. “Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Office will be joining this meeting as well. Ms. Ursula Black, you are here today to express your desire to become an Animagus, correct? Your uncle, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, is acting as your guardian for this meeting as you are underaged, and your Transfiguration professor, Madam Minerva McGonagall, is here on your behalf.”

Ursula nodded, confirming the information as Mr. Spindle read from his lengthy roll of parchment. Lucius sat on her left, Professor McGonagall to her right, with the three Ministry officials across from them.

“Let us begin first with the dangers involved in becoming an Animagus,” said Mr. Spindle. “Mrs. Rook, if you will.”

“Ms. Black, it is my duty to make you aware of everything that could pose a danger to you or those around you during this process,” said Mrs. Rook, a middle aged woman even more stern than Mr. Spindle. Becoming an Animagus was no joke. “Every step of the process is to be carefully monitored by Professor McGonagall.”

She went on for several minutes, describing every possible thing that could go wrong during the process and the transformation itself. Ursula felt slightly queasy throughout the whole speech, but she maintained her composure as Mrs. Rook finished.

“We will now turn to testimony from Professor McGonagall, to make sure that you will be able and committed to this task,” said Mr. Spindle. “Professor McGonagall, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you,” said Professor McGonagall. It was quite odd seeing her outside of Hogwarts, thought Ursula, as Professor McGonagall adjusted her large, square spectacles before speaking.

“In all my years of teaching, I have seen few with Ms. Black’s skill at Transfiguration,” she began, and Ursula’s heart swelled. “I have seen fewer still with her caliber of rigor and determination. She has only ever received the highest marks my curriculum will allow, while consistently taking on the hardest assignments with confidence. When Ms. Black approached me about becoming an Animagus, I already had an inkling that she might do such a thing, and I would never have agreed to assist her were I not completely confident in her abilities.”

“And you can verify that Ms. Black only wishes to become an Animagus to further her studies?” said Mr. Spindle.

“Without a doubt,” said Professor McGonagall. Ursula could swear the barest smile was sent her way.

“Very well, thank you Professor McGonagall,” said Mr. Spindle. “All that is left to discuss is the process by which one becomes an Animagus. You are already aware, I take it, that you must hold the leaf of a Mandrake in your mouth for an entire month and that sticking charms of any kind will not work?”

“Yes,” said Ursula.

“At the end of which you must add the leaf to a potion within range of the full moon’s rays, then keep the potion where it will not be disturbed until the next electrical storm. Is such a thing possible?”

“It is,” said Ursula.

“And you understand that you must recite the incantation  _ Amato Animo Animato Animagus _ every sunrise and sunset until the storm arrives with the tip of your wand placed over your year?”

“Yes,” said Ursula.

“When the electrical storm finally arrives, you are to go to a large and secure area to transform, where you will recite the incantation, drink the potion, and, if all goes well, transform into your Animagus.”

A chill went down Ursula’s spine.

“If the transformation is successful, you will report at once to Professor McGonagall, who will contact myself and Mrs. Rook. We will come to Hogwarts ourselves to register your form. Is all of this understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said Ursula.

“Then, unless you or Mr. Malfoy has any questions, I would please ask that you each sign here — Professor McGonagall, you as well.”

They each did so, showing that Ursula was committed to doing this, that her guardian allowed it, and that someone else believed she could. When the document was handed back to Mr. Spindle, he allowed the barest of smiles upon his stern face.

“It has been a long time since someone has attempted this transformation,” he said. “Good luck, Ms. Black. It speaks well of you to try.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “Good day.”

She followed Lucius, heart hammering, out the door.

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” she said, once they were outside. Professor McGonagall gave her a rare, full smile.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Black. You are truly an exemplary student, and I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts.”

“Professor,” said Lucius, tipping his hat to her.

“Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Black,” replied Professor McGonagall, bidding them goodbye with a nod of her head.

“Well Ursula,” said Lucius, turning to face her. “I suppose we had better find you a Mandrake leaf.”

“Yes,” said Ursula, grinning broadly now as the realization of what she had just been permitted to do set in. “I suppose we must.”


	44. The Dementor

“Come on, Ursula! We’re going to be late!” Her cousin’s impatient voice echoed up the stairs. Nevermind that they were plenty early, and her taking an extra few seconds to come downstairs wouldn’t change that.

“Just a moment Draco,” said Ursula exasperatedly, fixing her white headband. At her request, she had finally gotten her hair cut. Nothing drastic — instead of at her waist her shiny curls brushed mid back — but she was quite pleased.

Yesterday was the full moon, and Ursula had begun keeping the Mandrake leaf in her mouth until the next full moon. Her retainer kept the leaf firmly pressed to the roof of her mouth, and she was thankful that it had no taste, or else she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to manage it for a whole month.

Ursula hurried down the stairs before Draco could whine any more, and in no time at all they were through the barrier at King’s Cross and onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Ursula bid Lucius and Narcissa goodbye, wasting no time as she boarded a train to change and find a compartment before the prefect’s meeting.

No sooner had she finished pinning the silver and green prefect badge to her robes than Cassius slid open the compartment door.

“Ursula!” he said, grabbing her around the waist and practically throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” laughed Ursula, hitting Cassius’s back as he spun her around.

“As you wish,” said Cassius. He dumped her on the ground and she retaliated by kicking him in the shins. He hopped around while she laughed and pulled herself to her feet.

“You fiend!” said Ursula. She pulled out a mirror and fixed her hair and tie. “How was your summer?”

Cassius had only grown taller, tanner, and more muscular since she had seen him last. His sandy brown hair was streaked with golden blond, and he had a casual grace about him and a handsome smile as he lounged in his seat.

“Excellent,” he replied. “And Poppy’s doing wonderful as well.” He opened the wicker basket and a lovely sleek red cat with green eyes jumped out. Ursula freed Betelgeuse, and the two cats happily rubbed against each other, purring loudly.

“You seemed stunned when your badge arrived,” Ursula commented, as the train began to leave the station.

“So I was,” said Cassius. “I thought for sure Adrian or Jacob or even Philip would get it, not me.”

“Well you did, and you deserve it,” said Ursula. She checked the time. “I wanted to say hello to Adrian and Lilian before the meeting, but —”

“My ears are burning,” said Lilian as she slid open the compartment door, Adrian on her heels. “Hello hello.”

Ursula stood and hugged them both.

“Thank goodness you arrived when you did,” she said. “Cassius and I must go to the prefects’ meeting and I would’ve been sad to miss you.”

“Your summers were good, then?” said Adrian. “How was the wedding?”

“Oh, it was fantastic,” said Ursula. “How was your summer?”

“Boring as ever, I’m afraid,” said Adrian. “Lachlan is busy with his new Ministry job, and my mother kept dragging me to various tea parties. Have you ever had tea with the Parkinsons?”

Ursula snorted.

“Yes. It was that bad, then?”

“It was the worst,” said Adrian, flopping in the seat across from Cassius. “I didn’t mind the Shaws, though.”

“Miles is thrilled to be starting at Hogwarts this year,” said Lilian. “If he’s in Slytherin you’ll get to show him around.”

“Well I’d be surprised if he isn’t,” said Ursula. “Now, Cassius and I must get going, I’m afraid.”

Cassius and Ursula left the compartment, strolling up the train as green hills rolled by outside. Younger students ran passed, but ultimately their path was blocked by the Weasley twins, grinning identically with the sort of smile that succeeded one of their pranks.

“Hello Black, Warrington,” said Fred.

“Not up to trouble, I hope?” said Ursula. “I am a prefect now, Weasley.”

“You wouldn’t dare take points off of us,” said George, puffing out his chest.

“You love us too much,” teased Fred.

“We’ll see, Weasley, we’ll see.”

Fred and George moved to the side to let Ursula and Cassius pass. About half of the prefects were already in the foremost compartment when they arrived, one of the two large compartments in the train car.

When they had all arrived, Percy Weasley stood, imperiously beckoning for their attention. He and Penelope Clearwater, a pretty, freckled girl with long curly hair, were the Head Boy and Girl. The other fifth year prefects were Blossom and Cedric from Hufflepuff, Rose Marwick and Lewis Carter from Ravenclaw, and Caoimhe Ryan and Andrew Barker from Gryffindor.

“Welcome, all of you,” said Percy. “Especially our new prefects. I hope all of you will take your duties as a Hogwarts prefect seriously and help ensure that order is maintained at Hogwarts.”

“To start this year off on the right foot, Percy and I will begin by explaining what responsibilities and power a prefect has,” said Penelope. “Firstly, prefects are expected to patrol the corridors after curfew to ensure that no unauthorized student is out of bed. Later on, we will discuss the patrol schedule."

"Prefects have the ability to take house points from everyone but fellow prefects, and are also allowed to issue detentions,” continued Percy. His voice grew more severe as he went on. “Any prefect found abusing this power is subject to punishment from the Head Boy or Girl, as well as any teacher. An extreme abuse of power can result in a prefect losing his or her badge.”

His tone made it clear that he thought losing one’s badge to be the height of dishonor.

“Fifth year prefects are expected to show first years to their common room,” said Penelope. “All prefects are expected to assist with special occasions, such as the decorating of the school for holidays or watching over the younger students during bad weather.”

“Being a prefect also betters your chances of making Head Boy or Girl,” said Percy, puffing out his chest again. “I must impress upon you again the responsibility that has been given to you. Prefects are expected to maintain average or above average grades throughout the year and be a role model for other students, through hard work and exemplary character.”

“One perk to being a prefect is the prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor,” said Penelope. “It is located behind the fourth door to the left of a statue of Boris the Bewildered, and is open only to prefects, the Head Boy and Girl, and Quidditch Captains. This year’s password is ‘bath thyme.’”

“As for the patrol schedule that Penelope mentioned earlier, prefects are to patrol the school from nine to eleven,” said Percy. “Nine is, of course, curfew for fourth year and younger, and curfew is at ten o’clock for fifth through seventh years. Four prefects will patrol per night, either alone or in pairs. You are not guaranteed or required to patrol with the other prefect in your house and year. As you can see, there are twenty four total prefects, including Penelope and myself, and seven nights a week, meaning four among us will patrol twice a week.”

“This extra night will be rotated among us,” said Penelope. “And you are allowed to trade shifts with anyone willing. I believe the only thing left to tell you is that these front two compartments are reserved for our use on this train ride, so in between patrols you have the option to return here. We ask that you patrol the train corridors every half hour or so.”

Cassius and Ursula bid the other prefects goodbye, completing their first sweep of the Hogwarts Express before returning to their compartment, where Gemma and Vanessa had joined Adrian and Lilian. Gemma looked mildly annoyed that Ursula got the prefect’s badge and she hadn’t, but Ursula wasn’t the type to gloat, especially over her friend.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing each other backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment, but a stern glare and a warning from Ursula had sent them further down the train. She and Cassius did their duty, and every half hour on the dot they did a sweep of the Hogwarts Express.

At one o’clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door. All six of them contributed, and they had a sizable pile of sweets for the remainder of the train ride. Mid-afternoon it began to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, just after Cassius came back from the boys’ bathroom, angry at having to tell off a pair of boys whose makeshift stink bomb hadn’t gone as planned, and had engulfed a whole train car in noxious smoke.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, and soon the windows were completely black.

Ursula was down at the other end of the train investigating a complaint when it began to slow.

“We can’t be there yet,” she said to no one, checking the time.

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told her that many pieces of luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and the Hogwarts Express was plunged into total darkness.

Ursula steadied herself, having nearly fallen when the train jolted.

“ _ Lumos _ ,” she said. The light was of little use, but it allowed her to slowly creep back towards her own compartment. No one was in the corridors now.

And then Ursula saw it. A Dementor.

At the other end of the train car floated the cloaked figure, whatever horror was underneath hidden by the hood. She began to back away, keeping her wand out and pointed at the Dementor, feeling her heart pound faster and faster with every step.

The Dementor floated past each compartment, leaving an icy trail in its wake. It drew a long, rattling breath and an intense cold swept over Ursula. The cold gripped her, her steps slowing, the ice flooding through her veins and reaching for her heart…

The world had gone silent, the only sounds coming from the Dementor and her own shaking breaths. And then the screaming filled her ears.

Ursula froze.

The screaming, the terrible, desperate screaming… a crash, a thump, the sound of glass breaking… a dark wardrobe, tiny hands clutching a soft toy bear…  _ ‘I love you, my darling, always remember that. I love you’ _ … a deep shout, a gasp, a splat… the screaming, the screaming, the screaming…

Ursula managed one more step backwards, bringing herself into the next train carriage. Then she fainted.

“Is she alright? What happened?”

“And what was that thing?”

“Look, she’s waking up!”

Three different voices sounded around her as Ursula came to, slowly taking in her surroundings. The lanterns were on again and the train was moving. She was leaning against someone — someone had brought her into a compartment.

Across from her were George and Lee, meaning the person whose shoulder she was leaning on was —

“Are you alright, Ursula?” asked Fred as she sat up on her own.

“Er — yeah, I’m... fine now. Thanks, Fred” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“What happened?” asked George. “You were white as a ghost and then you just fainted, so we brought you in here. And what was that thing?”

“A Dementor,” said Ursula, trying to slow her frantically beating heart. “They guard Azkaban. I don’t… I don’t know what it was doing here, though.”

“Here, take a chocolate frog,” said Lee. “You still look pretty shaken, and my mum says chocolate helps with shock. Or something like that.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula. The compartment door opened and Cassius stuck his head in, a look of great relief spreading across his face.

“Ursula! There you are! We were so worried when we couldn’t find you and that thing came around and —” Cassius noticed how pale and shaky she was. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Ursula. Against her better judgement she stood, and managed to stay standing even as her legs wobbled. Cassius helped her into the corridor.

“Thanks,” she said, looking back at Fred, George, and Lee, who still looked worried. “For — everything.”

“What happened?” asked Cassius in a low voice, as they walked slowly back to their own compartment.

“I… fainted,” said Ursula. “When the Dementor passed.”

A shabby-looking man strolled past them, frowning slightly.

“Who’s that?” said Cassius.

“I don’t know,” said Ursula. Nor did she really care. “A new professor, maybe?”

Lilian was waiting for them outside of the compartment, and Ursula told her to, if only to calm the frantic look on her face.

“I don’t want anyone else to know,” she said, and Lilian and Cassius agreed. She was quiet for the remainder of the train ride, although she still went with Cassius on patrol.

At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and a toad croaked loudly. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

At least a hundred stagecoaches awaited them as they crossed the platform, each pulled by a leathery thestral that looked even more skeletal in the rain. Ursula felt a bit better after the chocolate and had had time to calm her nerves and compose herself so nothing seemed amiss.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Ursula saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. She swallowed, and Cassius’s arm around her shoulders tightened. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Lilian was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and they all got out.

Ursula was halfway up the steps to the castle when she heard her cousin’s drawling, delighted voice.

“You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottorn telling the truth? You actually fainted?”

Draco was grinning, his pale eyes gleeful.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

“Did you faint as well, Weasley?” said Malfoy loudly. “Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?”

“Is there a problem?” said a mild voice. The shabby-looking man from the train had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Draco stared at him, clearly taking in the patches on his robes and his dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, “Oh, no — er — Professor.”

“Don’t be rude, Draco,” said Ursula from further up the steps, beckoning imperiously to him. She nodded to the professor and followed her friends up the stairs, checking to make sure Draco followed.

Ursula and her friends joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors. The ceiling of the Great Hall was black and cloudy tonight.

Professor Flitwick led the first years into the Great Hall this year; Professor McGonagall was oddly absent. The Sorting Hat sang as usual, and then the tiny professor began to call out names in a squeaky voice.

Eventually he reached, “Fenharrow, Miles!” and a short boy with dark brown hair squared his shoulders and walked dutifully up to be sorted.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Lilian cheered as loud as she could as Miles walked proudly to the Slytherin table and sat with the other first years. Ursula, Cassius, and Adrian joined her, making themselves heard over the cheers of the rest of their house so that a distinct blush crept over Miles’s cheeks.

“Foxx, Abel!”

“Alice owes me ten Sickles,” whispered Lilian, as Abel went to Gryffindor, waving to his older brother in Ravenclaw.

Names popped up here and there that they knew, but only a few of the fifth years had siblings who were just starting at Hogwarts. Oscar Holmes joined his sister in Hufflepuff, and Mabel Marwick went to Ravenclaw like hers.

“Parkinson, Percival!”

“I hope they hurry up, I’m starving,” muttered Adrian, as Percival sat down across from Miles.

“There’s not many left now,” replied Ursula.

When they were down to the last three, Professor Flitwick called, “Warrington, Lucinda!”

Cassius stiffened, crossing his fingers as his sister walked nervously up to the stool. Aurelia and Marcellus were also Slytherins, and so was nearly every member of his family. But he had nothing to worry about.

“SLYTHERIN!” declared the hat, and Lucinda beamed as she hurried to sit down amid all of the cheering and clapping.

The Sorting Ceremony finished, and Professor Flitwick carried the ancient hat and the three-legged stool out of the hall just as Professor McGonagall entered, accompanied by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, both of whom looked quite awkward as they found their seats.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to speak, and the hall fell silent save for the rumbles of hunger from many of the students. Though very old, he always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose.

“Welcome!” said Professor Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…”

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.”

He paused, and Ursula got the distinct impression he was displeased.

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly.

“Who has one of those?” asked Cassius.

“It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Percy puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes, and those who had now seen four or five bad teachers one after another found it hard to be optimistic.

“Look at Snape!” hissed Lilian in Ursula’s ear. “What did Professor Lupin ever do to him?”

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but the expression twisting his thin, sallow face was startling. It was beyond anger: it was loathing.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

Much more applause followed this announcement, particularly from the Gryffindor table. Hagrid was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard. Ursula grinned and clapped. She had faith in Hagrid, faith she knew wasn’t shared by all of Slytherin.

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Ursula realized she was starving, and didn’t hesitate to fill her plate. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. At long last, the last morsels of treacle tart melted away from the golden platters and the students found themselves ready for bed.

Ursula elbowed Cassius to keep him awake.

“The first years!” she reminded him. She pulled him through the crowd towards the confused first years.

“First years, first years over here!” called Cassius, his voice carrying. His height made him someone intimidating to many of the first years, who drew back slightly.

“This way,” said Ursula, smiling down at them. She led the dozen Slytherin first years out of the Great Hall and through the door on the right. “This passage leads down to the Slytherin common room,” she explained as they descended the stone steps.

“Though we are located in the dungeons, you’ll find your dorms quite cozy,” reassured Cassius. “And there are windows in the common room that look out into the lake — we’re underwater, you see.”

“Our emblem is the serpent, a wise and noble creature,” said Ursula. “We pride ourselves on our ambition, our cunning, and our resourcefulness. Slytherins make very loyal friends.”

“Our house colors are emerald green and silver,” said Cassius as they reached the bare stretch of stone wall. “The password for our common room changes every two weeks, with the new password posted on the notice board. The current password is ‘Salazar.’”

The stones shifted to reveal the passageway, and Ursula and Cassius led the first year Slytherins into the long, low common room. They pointed out the portraits on the walls and then split the first years into boys and girls to show them their dorms. When the first years had found their rooms, Ursula headed to her own, giving Gemma a tired greeting.

Gemma was busy arranging her desk into the ideal study area, stacking up books and arranging quills. Ursula was too tired to unpack. She held the Mandrake leaf in her mouth while she washed off the retainer, then popped it back in and brushed her teeth. She changed into her pajamas and after a moment’s hesitation dug deeper into her trunk, until she pulled out a small black bear.

Ursula climbed into bed and held the stuffed animal, shutting her curtains for privacy. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until Betelgeuse meowed at her, rubbing his head against her chin. Ursula sniffed, wiped her eyes, and turned out her light.

She didn’t get much sleep that night, as the memory of her mother’s death rang in her ears.


	45. The Boggart

Ursula woke the next morning feeling much better, excited and ready for classes to begin. Marcus Flint held trials for the reserve keeper and chaser, and wasted no time after choosing Lilian and Cassius respectively to begin training them and the rest of the team for their first match, which was nearly two months away.

“I’m so sore,” groaned Lilian the morning of their first day of school. “I can barely move my arms.”

Ursula chuckled.

“I don’t envy you,” she said. “The first few days are awful.”

“We have practice tonight, don’t we?” said Lilian. Ursula nodded.

“I recommend stretching beforehand,” said Ursula. Professor Snape came around just then with their schedules. “Charms, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning. We’ll get to meet Professor Lupin.”

“If he’s better than Lockhart, I’ll be thrilled,” said Cassius, slathering his toast in butter and honey.

“I don’t know if I can handle Quidditch and Astronomy on the same day,” said Lilian.

“You’ll sleep well when it’s over, that’s for sure,” replied Ursula. “Come on, we had better get to Charms.”

Professor Flitwick spent the first fifteen minutes of class lecturing them on the importance of OWLs, as they knew he would. Gemma even took notes.

“What you must remember,” said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, “is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I’m afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!”

They then spent the remainder of the hour reviewing Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest amount of Charms homework ever.

Ancient Runes was no better. Professor Babbling assigned them a long sheet of translations and a reading to do, plus a lecture of her own about their OWLs.

“I’ve heard Alchemy is rather fascinating,” said Cassius as they walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts. “Are you planning to take it next year?”

Ursula nodded.

“I think so,” she said. “I might drop Ancient Runes once I’ve got the OWL.”

They reached Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Professor Lupin was busy writing on the chalkboard. His tattered briefcase sat on his desk, and he looked shabby as ever but healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

“Good morning,” he said when the bell rang, turning around to face them with a smile. “No doubt you’ve already been told about the importance of your OWLs, so I won’t bore you with another lecture.”

“Thank Merlin,” said Fred loudly. A ripple of laughter swept through the class and Professor Lupin chuckled.

“I will, however, promise to prepare you to the best of my ability for the exam,” he said. “I am not saying my class will be easy, but I believe each and every one of you can earn an OWL in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This year we will be taking a more practical approach, including dark creatures, of which I will be bringing in several during lectures. You will not be put in danger during my class, but you will be challenged. Does this sound reasonable?”

“I like this guy already,” whispered Cassius.

“He’s certainly better than anyone we’ve had so far,” agreed Ursula.

Professor Lupin spent the rest of class outlining what they would be covering during the year, and said the only homework they were assigned was to think about what they hoped to achieve this year. The fifth years went to lunch with high spirits about their new professor, but Ursula’s mood switched to annoyance when Theodore Nott informed her of Draco’s injury.

“I mean really,” she said, tossing her napkin down and standing up. “Cassius, save me a plate if I’m not back by the end of lunch.”

“Aye aye captain,” said Cassius, saluting her. Ursula headed to the Hospital Wing, rolling her eyes the whole way.

“Hello Pansy,” she said blandly to the dark-haired girl at Draco’s bedside. “Would you excuse us?”

“Oh — fine,” said Pansy, a bit sullenly. She released Draco’s hand and left at Ursula’s request. Ursula perched on the chair beside Draco’s bed. His right arm was wrapped in bandages and held in a sling.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Though she suspected her cousin was milking his injury, she was still concerned.

“That stupid beast nearly tore my arm off,” grimaced Draco. Ursula raised an eyebrow.

“Did you call the Hippogriff a stupid beast to his face?”

Draco flushed and he busied himself examining his arm.

“I suppose it’s just a bad scratch,” muttered Draco begrudgingly.

“I am glad you’re alright,” said Ursula. She cast her eyes towards the door of the Hospital Wing. “I’m surprised Pansy listened to me.”

“She learned manners from a governess like the rest of us,” said Draco with a shrug. He grinned. “And you can be quite… intimidating. Redoubtable, when you want to be.”

Ursula’s mouth quirked into a slight smile.

“Glad to hear no one thinks I’m a pushover, at least,” she said.

“It’s not bad,” said Draco quickly. “I mean, no one thinks you’re mean.”

“Good,” said Ursula. “I’d hate to appear unkind.” She stood. “Shall I leave you and your admirer be? Will you be alright?”

“Yes,” said Draco. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course,” said Ursula. She paused by the door. “Oh, and Draco?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t milk your injury too hard.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort but she was already gone. Lunch was almost finished by the time she returned, but Cassius had indeed saved her a plate. After lunch, half of the Slytherin fifth years went to Divination and the other half returned to their common room, Cassius proclaiming the whole way how glad he was to have dropped Divination.

Next was Arithmancy, and Ursula listened unenthusiastically to a half-hour lecture about their OWLs at the end of the year.

“It’s the first day back,” said Lilian when they met up in Care of Magical Creatures. “Do they really have to stress us out now?”

“For once, I’m inclined to agree with Fenharrow,” said Jacob.

“For once,” said Lilian.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking rather nervous, Ursula suspected because of Draco’s injury that morning.

“This’ll be a real treat for yeh!” he said as the class approached. “We’ll have to go o’er some rules, o’ course, but it’ll be a good lesson for yeh, OWL year ‘n all.”

Hagrid led them off along the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a large, empty paddock.

“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here!” he called. “That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

“Er, Professor?” said Angelina Johnson, raising her hand. “How do we open our books?”

Her own copy of the Monster Book of Monsters was clamped shut with a binder clip. Other people used rope, belts, or even tape.

“Were none of yeh able to open yer book?” said Hagrid, sounding sad but not surprised. They were his last class of the day, after all.

“I was,” called Ursula loudly.

“Of course you were,” muttered Jacob, rolling his eyes. Lilian shot him a nasty book.

Ursula pulled her copy out of her bag, removed the rope keeping it closed, and stroked the spine so that it fell open in her hands. Hagrid looked mighty relieved.

“Ten points ter Slytherin!” he said happily. “Maybe yeh’d like ter go firs’. Lemme jus’ go an’ get ‘em.”

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight. A minute later, he returned, leading eight proud Hippogriffs with thick leather collars around their necks, each attached to a long chain, the ends of which were held in Hagrid’s vast hands.

“Hippogriffs!” roared Hagrid happily, waving a hand at them.

“They’re —” began Adrian.

“Beautiful,” breathed Ursula. Half horse, half bird, with steel-colored beaks and brilliant orange eyes, the Hippogriffs were beautiful. The gleaming coats changed smoothly from feather to hair, and were each a different color: stormy grey, golden bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

“Don’t never insult one, any of yeh,” said Hagrid seriously. “I don’ — I don’ want any of yeh getting hurt, an’ Hippogriffs are offended easily. They’re very proud creatures, Hippogriffs are. Alrigh’ Ursula, yeh first.”

Ursula wasted no time climbing over the paddock fence. Hagrid untied one of the chains, leading the inky black one away from the others and slipped off its collar.

“This is Starkfeather,” said Hagrid. “He’s a strong one, he is, but gentle.”

Starkfeather walked slowly forward, eyeing Ursula from a distance with fiery orange eyes.

“Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued. “It’s polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away sharpish from his talons.”

Ursula approached a step or two, enough that Starkfeather maintained eye contact with her.

“Very good,” said Hagrid. “Try not ter blink now… Hippogriffs don’ trust you if yeh blink too much… tha’s it… now, bow.”

Ursula bowed low, held the position for a moment, then slowly straightened. Starkfeather eyed her haughtily for a moment, then to her pleasure he bent his scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable vow.

“Well done, Ursula!” said Hagrid ecstatically, leading the class in applause. Lilian, Cassius, and Adrian cheered particularly loudly. “Yeh can go up an’ give him a pat!”

Ursula walked slowly up to Starkfeather, extending her hand to rest it on his cool beak. She grinned, stroking the soft feathers on his head with her other hand. Starkfeather closed his eyes lazily and leaned into her hand like a horse, seemingly enjoying it.

The class applauded again, even Jacob, and Starkfeather flexed his powerful wings.

“Tha’s his way of saying yeh can ride him!” said Hagrid. “If yeh’d like to, ‘o course.”

“I’d love to,” said Ursula. She’d ridden a thunderbird a few times, but never a Hippogriff, and she was quite eager.

“Climb on up, behind the wing,” said Hagrid. “There you go… mind his feathers, tha’s a good girl…”

Ursula put her hands on Starkfeather’s back and attempted to hoist herself up; he was quite tall. To her surprise, Starkfeather knelt again, and rose when she was safely seated on his back.

“Right then!” said Hagrid. Without any prompting from him, Starkfeather broke into a trot, then a canter, his magnificent twelve foot wings flapping open on either side of Ursula. His glossy black feathers shone iridescent purple and blue, and she braced her hands at the base of his neck, gripping with her knees as Starkfeather soared into the air.

It was nothing like a broom, but it was just as thrilling, feeling the wind on her face, whipping through her hair, the strange rocking motion of Starkfeather’s hindquarters rising and falling with his wings quite rhythmic.

Starkfeather was careful to keep her balanced — he was quite gentlemanly, as far as Hippogriffs went. He circled once, high above the paddock, and then landed as smoothly as he could, flapping his wings once as his assorted hooves and talons hit the ground.

Ursula slid off his back elegantly, giving him a final pat.

“Well done!” said Hagrid. He seemed to have finally recovered from the incident with Draco thanks to Ursula’s success.

Emboldened, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid reminded them nervously again to not offend the Hippogriffs, and soon the students were bowing nervously in groups of three or four all over the paddock. Some ran repeatedly backward as their Hippogriffs stubbornly refused to bow, others were petting their feathers in a trice. Ursula brought her friends over to meet Starkfeather, who followed her when she tried to walk away.

“You’re right, Ursula,” said Cassius, as he stroked Starkfeather’s beak. “He’s gorgeous.”

Starkfeather made a strange nickering sound of pleasure and seemed to preen a little at the compliment, so they showered him with more. He was — quite literally — eating out of Ursula’s hand by the end of the lesson, and she was quite sad to say goodbye when it was over.

“I wish I had your skill and ease with magical creatures,” said Lilian as they walked back up to the castle. “I was terrified he would bite my fingers off.”

Adrian laughed.

“So was I,” he said. “He was one of the strangest-looking creatures I’ve ever seen. Beautiful, I suppose, but strange.”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula, as they headed up the front stops and across the Entrance Hall.

“Hey Black! How’s your cousin?”

Ursula turned, sending a cool glare to the Ravenclaw sixth year who shouted at her from across the corridor. His statement gained a loud, exaggerated laugh from his friends. Cassius stiffened. Ursula did not deign a response, and she led the way through the door beside the Great Hall.

“What was that about?” asked Adrian as they descended the stone steps.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure,” said Ursula. “I doubt he was referring to Draco.”

_ And few knew about her Scamander cousins _ , she reminded herself.  _ Was he referring to Nymphadora? _

“Move along,” said Cassius, shooing a couple of second years away so they could sit around one of the dark oak tables. He rummaged through his bookbag for a moment, then cursed. “Ursula, can I borrow your copy of the Daily Prophet? I forgot that I set mine on fire during Ancient Runes.”

“Sure,” said Ursula, bending down to retrieve it from her own bag. “I don’t know how you forgot, Professor Babbling was…”

She trailed off. She had just caught sight of a small picture on the cover of the Daily Prophet, of a gaunt man with haunting eyes.

“You alright?” asked Lilian, furrowing her brow.

“I know what that Ravenclaw was referring to,” said Ursula, handing the paper to Cassius. “Sirius Black.”

“Of course,” muttered Adrian, rolling his eyes. “But you’ve never even met him. Just because he’s your cousin —”

“First cousin once removed, to be exact,” said Ursula. “I agree; it’s ridiculous. Did I tell y’all the Ministry sent Aurors to search my house?”

“No way,” gasped Lilian. “Really?”

Ursula nodded.

“My uncle was furious,” she said. “He went on and on about how rude it was, after all my grandfather did for the Ministry.”

Adrian snorted.

“I wouldn’t even cross a portrait of Cygnus Black III,” he admitted. Ursula giggled.

“They didn’t — find anything, did they?” said Cassius, and Ursula understood what he was suggesting.

“No,” she answered. “It was more an inconvenience than anything else. The real heroes are my house elves. Rufus Scrimgeour was ready to curse Dimsey, but he kept them trapped in the entryway until I arrived. It was quite admirable.”

“You’ll have to give him a raise,” joked Adrian. “For keeping the head of the Auror Department out of your house.”

“You’re joking, but I do want to give him a gift,” said Ursula. “I was thinking some rare books might be nice. He does so love to read.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” said Lilian dryly. “Is it dinner time yet?”

“Almost, Lilian darling,” said Ursula. “Might as well do some rune translations.”

Lilian groaned but pulled the thin stack of yellowed parchment they had each been given and the thick textbook and began to decipher each rune. Two-thirds of an hour passed, and then it was time for dinner. The Slytherins stowed their bags away in their dorms and headed gratefully upstairs to eat.

“Hey! Black! Hey!”

Edward Shafiq, a seventh year and Vanessa’s older brother, ran eagerly up to her through the crowd.

“You’re looking quite fetching today, Ursula,” he said as he reached her side.

“Hello Edward,” said Ursula crisply, not slowing her pace up the stairs.

“I heard you have a winged admirer,” he continued. “Can I be your human admirer?”

“Is there any way to stop you?”

Edward laughed, but Ursula was serious. He tried to sling an arm over her shoulders, but she sidestepped quickly.

“What would you say to a drink, aye Ursula? First Hogsmeade trip?”

“I’d say no,” said Ursula, “and you’re a terrible flirt.”

Once again, she was serious, but Edward didn’t pick up on it.

“Only for you,” he said, with an awkward wink. Finally, they reached the Great Hall.

“Unfortunately,” muttered Ursula under her breath.

“What was that about?” asked Cassius as Ursula sat down between him and Vanessa.

“Edward Shafiq asked me if he could be my ‘human admirer,’” said Ursula irritably. Across the table, Lilian snorted and spilled half her pumpkin juice. “Then he asked me on a poorly worded date. I turned him down.”

“I doubt that’ll stop him,” said Adrian.

“I wish it would,” said Ursula.

“The two of you  _ would  _ make a good couple,” said Vanessa innocently.

“I’m not dating your brother,” said Ursula firmly.

“Well…”

“No.”

Ursula had barely finished her trifle when Marcus Flint came striding over.

“Pucey, Black, Warrington, and Fenharrow,” he said. “Practice begins in twenty minutes. No time to waste.”

They all stood — Cassius shoved the last bite of eclair into his mouth — and followed him out of the hall. Despite Lilian’s complaints that morning, she wisely didn’t voice them around Flint, not wanting to risk losing her position on the team. The Slytherin beaters, Peregrine and Lucian, were already in the changing room when they arrived, and Miles Bletchley arrived soon after. Draco wasn’t there — his arm had only been injured that day, of course — so Terence was to be the seeker for today’s practice.

“Those Hippogriffs sure made for an interesting lesson,” said Lucian, sitting beside Ursula as she laced up her boots. Like Cassius, he was tan and tall and — if she was being entirely honest — handsome.

“I quite enjoyed it,” replied Ursula. “I got to ride Starkfeather, the glossy black one.”

“You’re braver than me, in that regard,” said Lucian with a laugh. “I met Fluxtuft, the reddish one. She was quite haughty, but I got there in the end. I must admit I was somewhat scared.”

“Caution is in no way cowardly,” said Ursula.

“I’m inclined to agree with that.”

They both laughed. Ursula stood, and Lucian followed, both reaching for their brooms.

“Protect me out there,” said Ursula, the corners of her mouth twisting up into a coy smile. “I’m counting on it.”

“You can always count on me,” said Lucian, “and not just on the Quidditch Pitch.”

He slung his bat over his shoulder and strolled out of the changing room.

“What are the odds,” murmured Lilian, coming up beside her. “He’s definitely a step up from Edward, or at least he is in your eyes.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Ursula, but she was still smiling. “Come on, or Flint will be furious.”

~~~

After an exhausting Astronomy lesson and accompanying OWL lecture that night, Ursula got to revisit Starkfeather the next morning after Arithmancy, then had daytime Astronomy, Ancient Runes, and an exceptionally dull History of Magic lesson. Wednesday, after a study period, Ursula and the others got to go to Transfiguration. She assured Professor McGonagall she hadn’t taken the Mandrake leaf out of her mouth, and then sat down to a fifteen minute lecture on the importance, once again, of their OWLs.

“You cannot pass an O.W.L.,” said Professor McGonagall grimly, “without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So… today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L.”

She was quite right. Vanishing Spells were quite difficult, but both Ursula and Cedric had managed to vanish their snails by the end of the lesson, Ursula on her third attempt, Cedric on his fourth, earning them ten points each. They were the only ones not given homework; everyone else was told to practice and be ready to try again on Friday.

After Charms and Potions, it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“There’s no need to get out your books,” said Professor Lupin as they took their seats. “Wands only. Once you’re all here, we’re going to have a practical lesson.”

They shifted in their seats. They had all heard about Professor Lockhart’s failed attempt at pixies, but a practical lesson seemed too good to be true. Once Professor Lupin had taken role, they followed him out the door, puzzled but excited. Eventually they reached the staffroom door.

“This is the first time we’ve been in here,” said Fred loudly.

“Yes, we’ve definitely never gone past this door,” agreed George, just as loud.

Professor Lupin grinned with what seemed like understanding and opened the door. The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty. Professor Lupin beckoned them toward the other end of the room, where there was nothing but a wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about,” said Professor Lupin calmly, since a few people had jumped back in alarm. “Any guesses as to what’s in there?”

“Is it a Boggart, sir?” said Gemma.

“Excellent, Ms. Farley. Take ten points for Slytherin,” said Professor Lupin. “Yes, it is a Boggart. My third and fourth years saw it yesterday, so today is your turn. Can anyone tell me why a Boggart might pick a wardrobe? Ms. Johnson?”

“Boggarts like dark spaces,” said Angelina.

“And enclosed ones,” said Professor Lupin, nodding. “Five points to Gryffindor. Now, what  _ is  _ a Boggart?”

“It’s a shape-shifter,” said Philip Carlyle. “It takes the shape of whatever frightens us the most.”

“Very good, Mr. Carlyle, take five points as well.” Professor Lupin began to pace in front of the door. The Boggart waits in the dark, without a form. No one knows what a Boggart looks like when it is alone, because the second we look at it, it takes the form of our worst fear. This does give us an advantage. Because there are so many of us, it becomes confused and won’t know what to turn into.”

“It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a Boggart,” continued Professor Lupin. “Which should it become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.”

Laughter rippled through the fifth years. The wardrobe shook again.

“The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is  _ laughter _ . What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please…  _ riddikulus _ !”

“Riddikulus!” said the class together.

“Very good,” said Professor Lupin. “But I’m afraid that was the easy part. Do I have a volunteer to go first? Mr. Warrington, how about you?”

“Er… alright,” said Cassius, taking a few awkward steps forward.

“Think about what frightens you most in the world,” said Professor Lupin. “You don’t have to tell us — we’ll soon see.”

Cassius gulped and went a bit pale.

“Now, think of a way to make it funny, something that will make you laugh. You will raise your wand — remember, the spell is  _ Riddikulus _ — and concentrate very clearly on what makes you laugh. While he prepares, I want the rest of you to do the same, as when Cassius succeeds the Boggart will shift to each of us in turn. Take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…”

Ursula knew what scared her most.

“Everyone ready?” said Professor Lupin. “Right, Cassius, stay there, and everyone else back away so he can have a clear shot.”

“On the count of three, Cassius,” said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. “One — two — three —  _ now _ !”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Out stepped a tall, proud figure in tailored robes, with a deep scowl, his wand raised. None of the Gryffindors knew who he was, but more than half of the Slytherins did. It was Augustus Warrington, Cassius’s father.

“Your worst fear?” asked Professor Lupin hesitantly, an unspoken question in his spoken words.

“Being disowned,” said Cassius. There was a laugh from one of the Gryffindors, and Ursula whipped around to glare. Professor Lupin relaxed.

“ _ Riddikulus _ !” said Cassius calmly. A smile broke across his father’s face, and his robes changed from evening to summery.

“The garden party,” Ursula murmured, recalling the occasion, hosted by the Warringtons. Augustus had declared he was proud to have Cassius as a son and heir, and Cassius had beamed like she’d never seen before.

“Well done, Cassius,” said Professor Lupin. “Alicia, you next.”

Ursula gave Cassius’s hand a comforting squeeze as he joined her near the back of the line. They watched as students conquered their worst fears — everything from snakes, heights, and spiders to wicked relatives and the death of a loved one — and turned them into something fun, for them all to laugh at.

Lilian’s worst fear was Alice or Miles being attacked — Ursula assumed by a Death Eater — and she changed it into a lovely picnic scene. Fred and George, their Boggarts matching, each turned them into satisfying pranks. Adrian’s worst fear was similar to Cassius’s, though his was tied more closely to a certain tattoo. Lee Jordan’s Boggart-turned-puppy waited as Ursula stepped up to take her turn.

She knew what the Boggart would be long before the pale, twisted face of Antonin Dolohov appeared in front of her. He raised his wand and laughed.  _ That laugh _ .

Ursula shut her eyes tight.  _ The screaming _ …

She heard the laugh again, the Boggart daring to advance a step. She opened her eyes, seeing Professor Lupin prepared to intervene, and confidently raised her wand.

“ _ Riddikulus _ !”

Dolohov was gone in seconds, replaced by a beautiful young woman, her neck adorned with pearls. She wore a pale pink dress, her long black hair flowing in ringlets down her back, and her grey eyes kind.  _ That laugh _ …

Cassiopeia Black conjured bubbles with her wand, and Ursula could remember the scene clear as day. Her mother laughed again, joy and love bubbling from her, and she laughed too.

Ursula was more than happy to rejoin her friends, and just as she had comforted him, Cassius squeezed her shoulders. Neither of them said a word. Soon everyone had taken a turn, and Angelina Johnson got the honor of finishing the Boggart off, sending it weak and defeated back into the wardrobe with a great  _ Ha _ !

“Excellent!” cried Professor Lupin, as the class broke into applause. “Truly marvelous. Fine points to all of you, for being brave enough to face your fears.”

The bell rang and the students filed out of the staffroom, chatting excitedly with one another. Ursula told her friends to go on to Herbology without her. She approached Professor Lupin’s desk, where he was busy shuffling papers.

“Professor?” she asked hesitantly, once everyone else had gone.

“Yes, Ms. Black? How can I help?”

“You remember… the Dementor on the train?”

Professor Lupin nodded, and something in his eyes softened.

“Well… is it …  _ unusual _ … to react strongly to a Dementor?”

Professor Lupin surveyed her knowingly.

“People who have particularly bad memories tend to be affected by a Dementor more strongly than their peers. Fainting… is not uncommon for such situations.”

Ursula nodded. She had suspected as much, but wanted it confirmed. She hadn’t told Professor Lupin she had passed out, but she didn’t need to.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, turning to leave.

“Oh, and Ms. Black?”

Ursula paused at the door.

“Professor McGonagall told me of your efforts to become an Animagus,” said Professor Lupin. “I can only say good luck. And… I knew your mother. She was a very fine witch, and she would be very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ursula again. She felt strangely bittersweet. She missed her mother, but to hear her spoken of in such a way… it made her smile. So Ursula took that smile and wore it all through Herbology.


	46. The Worst Date

Hogwarts changed from summer to fall, the air cooled, and the leaves changed color and fell, crinkling underfoot. The full moon was September 30th, and Ursula was beyond thrilled not to have the Mandrake leaf in her mouth any longer. She was concerned that the full moon would be obscured by clouds, therefore making her have to start all over, but it was clear and bright when she stepped outside, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

When the Mandrake leaf was in the moonstruck vial, Ursula headed down to the Potions classroom, where Professor Snape had agreed to let her prepare the other ingredients. Into the vial went a long, curly black strand of hair, a silver teaspoon of dew that had ‘not seen sunlight or been touched by human feet for seven days’, and the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth.

The silver teaspoon of dew had been the hardest ingredient to acquire, but Ursula managed it, and it was with great pride that she set the vial into a padded black box, then tucked the black box into the back of her wardrobe where it wouldn’t be disturbed. Gemma didn’t see it, and Ursula headed back upstairs to finish her prefect patrol. Ursula hadn’t told any of her friends what she was doing, both in case it didn’t work and so it would be a terrific surprise if — _when_ — she managed it.

The next part of the process was even more arduous. Every sunrise and sunset without fail, Ursula placed the tip of her wand over her heart and chanted _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_. This task was difficult largely because, in order to know it was sunrise or sunset, she had to climb the endless winding stairs from the dungeons until she reached somewhere with a window.

Breakfast started at seven, and the sunrise in Scotland was only perhaps ten minutes before, so at least Ursula didn’t have to wake up much earlier than usual, although she was always the first into breakfast. Gemma woke early every morning to get an hour or so of studying in, and Ursula had upped her own studying time, though not as severely. She suspected she and Gemma might even row about it when their OWLs were nearer, and at that time she would study harder than she ever had before, but there was simply no point in overworking herself now.

October rolled in, crisp and chilly and gorgeous, weather that felt marvelous to fly in. Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood were both in their last year, and both wanted to claim the Quidditch Cup more than anything. The Slytherin team practiced three nights a week, but Flint wore a smirk that told Ursula he had something else up his sleeve.

The fifth years were thrilled with Professor Lupin, and felt confident that they could pass their OWL with him as a teacher. Every lesson was just as interesting as the first, and there came a time in mid October when Professor Lupin announced that he would be teaching them a few defensive spells.

“This is Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all,” he said. No one in class made any effort to hide their excitement. “But I must remind you that these are only to be used if you are ever attacked, and though I hope none of you will ever need them, they are good spells to know. At any rate, these spells will certainly come up on your OWL.”

He had them all stand and partner with the person sitting beside them, piling their desks in the corner with a wave of his wand.

“We’re going to start by reviewing spells you’ve already learned,” said Professor Lupin, instructing them to stand across from their partner. “Such as the full-body bind, the disarming charm, and the knockback jinx. Please take five minutes to practice.”

The room was filled suddenly with shouts as students disarmed and paralyzed their friends, sending them toppling backwards into provided cushions or their wands spinning across the high ceiling. After about five minutes, Professor Lupin clapped his hands for silence.

“It seems you all remember these spells, so today’s lesson will focus on the Impediment Jinx,” said Professor Lupin. “The Impediment Jinx hinders the movement of the target, slowing, stopping, or even throwing the target back for a few seconds. The wand movement is a swift horizontal line, and the incantation is _Impedimenta_. Observe.”

Professor Lupin handed a ball the size of a Quaffle to Fred and instructed him to throw it back at him. Bemused, Fred did as he was told.

“ _Impedimenta_.”

The jet of turquoise light collided with the ball in midair, where it seemed to hang for a moment before dropping to the ground.

“The Impediment Jinx does not stop the target for long, such as the Stunning Spell would,” said Professor Lupin. “But it is a very useful spell to have in your arsenal. I want all of you to face your partners from across the room, that’s it. Now, everyone on the left will try first. On the count of three, please. One — two — three —”

“ _Impedimenta_!” chorused a dozen of the students, similar jets of turquoise light flying across the room. Some of their partners went down, others froze, some cast spells too weak to do much of anything. Vanessa’s spell hit Ursula in the stomach and she froze for a few seconds, like she’d just run into an invisible wall.

“For a first attempt, that was quite good,” said Professor Lupin. He began to stroll down the line of students, offering advice and kind words of encouragement. “Angelina, excellent. Lilian, a little more enthusiasm. Jacob, a little less enthusiasm. George, terrific, don’t hex Cassius. Cassius, good job, don’t hex George. Vanessa, well done, could be a bit stronger. Ebrel, don’t flourish so much. Sophia, don’t be afraid of it. Daniel, the incantation is _Impedimenta_. Kenneth, straighten your arm. Philip, relax. Tilly, well done. I’ll have you all try it again, and then the other side will have a turn.”

Their second attempts were all vastly better. Ursula stumbled back this time, as Vanessa squared her shoulders and delivered with much more confidence. Ursula grinned and high fived her friend when the jinx wore off.

“Terrific,” said Professor Lupin. “Now, everyone on the right can go now. One — two — three —”

“ _Impedimenta_ !” said Ursula. She hit Vanessa square in the chest, and her friend fell back with a surprised _Oh_!

“Are you alright?” said Ursula, helping Vanessa up.

“Fine,” said Vanessa breathlessly. “Knocked the air out of me, that’s all.”

“Excellent,” said Professor Lupin. Just like before, he went down the line with advice for each of them. “Alicia, good, adjust your stance. Daria, the wand movement is a straight line. Adrian, good job, but you’re a little too eager. Fred, well done. Alexander, don’t be afraid. Ursula, excellent, keep it controlled. Caoimhe, pack more of a punch. Gemma, good form. Lee, don’t try so hard, you’ve got it. Andrew, open your eyes when you cast a spell. Edward, nicely done. Emily, relax, you’re doing it right.”

Professor Lupin had them try again, and there wasn’t a student in the room who didn’t feel pleased with themselves.

“Truly well done, all of you,” said Professor Lupin. “That’s the bell, so I’ll see you all on Friday. Your homework is twelve inches on counter-curses.”

“Whatever happened to that Dueling Club idea you had?” asked Adrian as they headed to Herbology.

“What’s this?” said Lilian.

“Last year, after Professor Lockhart’s failed Dueling Club, Adrian and I had discussed making our own,” explained Ursula. “I’d forgotten all about it, but I suppose now that you mention it, it’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrific idea,” said Cassius. “It’ll help us with our OWLs, and who doesn’t want to learn how to duel?”

“I’ll admit, the idea doesn’t thrill me,” said Lilian. Cassius looked surprised. “Dueling has never been a dream of mine. That said, I still think the club is an excellent idea.”

“It’s settled, then,” said Adrian happily.

“I don’t know what you think is settled,” said Ursula, scoffing. “It seems to me like I have even more work to do.”

“We’re at your service,” joked Cassius, and Ursula rolled her eyes, smiling.

Ursula was distracted all through Herbology, enough that she narrowly missed a bite from a Fanged Geranium. She hurried straight to the library once class was over and practically disappeared among the shelves.

“Where is she off to now?” said Lilian. Cassius shrugged.

“Beats me,” he said. “Maybe she’s going to study with Gemma.”

Ursula didn’t reappear until dinner, when she rushed into the Great Hall, grey eyes sparkling.

“Hey Ursula,” said Edward, turning to her as she came in.

“Sorry Edward, I’m busy at the moment,” she said, cutting him off before he could say more. Edward, as it happened, did not give up his cause and continued to flirt with Ursula nearly every chance he got, but right now she could not be bothered to stay and chat. Not when she had news for her friends.

“What’s got you so excited?” said Adrian. “And what were you doing in the library?”

“You’ll see,” said Ursula, tapping her fingernails against her goblet. “Meet me in Dungeon Six at seven thirty.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell us?” said Lilian.

“Yes,” decided Ursula. “And tell Vanessa to come as well.”

At seventh thirty, as instructed, Lilian, Adrian, Cassius, and an even more confused Vanessa headed to Dungeon Six, located a little ways away from the Potions classroom.

Ursula stood in the center of the cold stone dungeon, a series of lamps and torches hung about the room so it was well lit. A few chairs and some tables were arranged at one end, some cushions and strange dummies lined up at the other.

“Welcome,” said Ursula, “to the League of Laurels.”

For a second, her friends were silent, utterly dumbfounded. Vanessa recovered first.

“What is this?” she asked, gesturing to it all.

“Adrian recently reminded me that I had wanted to create a dueling club,” explained Ursula. “I felt the word _club_ was far too informal for such an occasion, don’t you? Anyway, I spent the hour before dinner looking into the old school rules and planning.”

“Did you write up a charter to?” said Adrian dryly. He still looked stunned.

“I’d have thought you’d learned not to underestimate me by now,” said Ursula. She picked up a scroll they hadn’t noticed on one of the tables and unfurled it. “Of course I did.”

“Are all members of the House of Black this dramatic?” teased Cassius.

“To my knowledge, yes, Cassius dear,” replied Ursula.

“Is it just the five of us?” asked Lilian.

“For now, yes,” said Ursula. “But not for long. Although, I won’t be letting just anyone in. It may seem harsh, but this is a Slytherins-only league.”

“Wouldn’t people in other houses benefit from this too?” said Lilian.

“Yes,” conceded Ursula. “But what with Sirius Black on the run, the Chamber of Secrets last year, and even our Quidditch rivalry with Gryffindor, we hold little favor with the other houses. I don’t want someone getting us in trouble or blaming us _again_ for something we didn’t do.”

“Your loyalty is admirable,” said Adrian.

“Thank you. Shall we begin?”

Ursula led them all to the cozy armchairs she had arranged, though they didn’t bother to ask how she’d set it all up so fast, and once she had answered all their questions they spent discussing various rules and ideas for what they planned to do. It was decided that Gemma would be the first addition to their group, and Ursula decided to tell her the next morning. Then they spent an half hour practicing what Professor Lupin had taught them in class.

“Merlin, is that the time? Terence Higgs is ill so I said I’d take his patrol tonight,” said Ursula. She swept the charter and several additional sheets of parchment into her bag. “I have to meet Lewis Burke in ten minutes.”

“You should go out with Edward,” said Vanessa suddenly.

“What?”

“All I’m saying is, he’s nice and he likes you,” said Vanessa.

“Yes, he is nice, and yes, he does like me, but I do not like him,” said Ursula. “At least, not like that. This isn’t something your mother put him up to?”

“No, he’s genuine,” said Vanessa. “Although he did ask me to put in a good word for him. But there’s nothing wrong with giving him a shot.”

Ursula sighed.

“I love you, Vanessa, but I don’t want to date your brother.”

“No one said _date_ ,” said Vanessa innocently. “Just go on _a_ date with him. Is his flirting really that bad?”

“Yes, it is,” said Lilian for Ursula. “Yesterday I saw him say ‘you’re so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line.’”

Vanessa cringed.

“Admittedly, that is bad,” she said. “But just give him a chance.”

“It’s not fair to him to lead him on when I’m not interested,” said Ursula. “You know if we went out once, he’d never leave me alone.”

“All I’m saying is, you never know,” said Vanessa. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”

“That’s twice you’ve used that phrase,” said Ursula, “when it’s clearly not ‘all you’re saying.’ Now, I really must be going.”

“Going out with Edward!” called Vanessa after her.

Ursula rolled her eyes. Lewis Burke, a seventh year like Edward, was waiting for her at the top of the stairs that led down into the dungeons.

“Hello Ursula,” he said warmly. They knew each other well enough, having seen each other at parties and all.

“Hello Lewis,” she replied with a smile. They began their patrol, looping around different parts of the castle. It was just after nine o’clock, which was curfew for fourth years and younger.

“You know, Edward has been talking quite a bit about you lately,” said Lewis, after telling off an errant third year.

Ursula groaned and he chuckled.

“Not you too,” she said. “Vanessa’s just pitched him to me, but I’m not interested.”

“I had wondered if it was a ploy to increase his chances,” admitted Lewis.

“I’m not going to be coy and pretend I don’t know what you mean,” said Ursula, sighing.

“And I won’t lie and say my family has said nothing on that matter either,” said Lewis. “You are undoubtedly the greatest heiress of the season, a fact my grandmother chose to remind me.”

“I’m glad we can be open about it,” said Ursula. “You’re very nice, Lewis, although I have no romantic feelings for you.”

“Nor I for you.”

“Remind me, who are your top options? In your mother and grandmother’s eyes. I’ve forgotten.”

“There’s you, of course, and your friend Vanessa,” said Lewis. He listed the names in the same tone one would read a shopping list. “Then there’s Cordelia Avery, Cressida Selwyn, and Imogen Nott. Possibly Jacqueline Travers, as well.”

“All daughters of Sacred Twenty-Eight families, then?” said Ursula.

“My mother has a very detailed list of additional candidates, I assure you,” said Lewis.

“I quite like Cressida,” said Ursula. “I should talk to her more.”

“I don’t dislike any of them,” said Lewis. “But I do feel the whole thing is a bit of a show.”

“At least we haven’t been flung at each other’s heads,” said Ursula. “There’s some dignity in that.”

“What about you? Who are your chosen suitors”

“My grandmother shared her thoughts on every eligible man within ten years of my age,” said Ursula. They both laughed at the memory of the late Druella Black. “My top matches are Hadrian Rowle, Jacob Selwyn, and you. Beyond that,” she took a deep breath, “is Peter Parkinson, Malcolm Greengrass, and both of the older Shafiq brothers.”

“So you _definitely_ don’t want to give Edward — or his mother — any ideas,” said Lewis. Ursula laughed again.

“No, but that’s not the reason — or, at least, not the _only_ reason — I don’t want to go out with him,” she said.

“I can’t see you spending your life with Peter Parkinson,” said Lewis thoughtfully, “or Jacob Selwyn. Both would drive you mad.”

“Thankfully, there are other candidates before them,” said Ursula. “For the record, Jacqueline Travers and Imogen Nott aren’t right for you, either.”

“The whole thing is ridiculous,” said Lewis. “Why does it matter who we marry, as long as we’re happy?”

“Is preserving the family name worth tying yourself to someone you don’t like for the rest of your life?” said Ursula, her voice a bit hollow. “Of course, most people like us don’t see it like that.”

“No,” conceded Lewis. “But it makes me glad to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Because it means you won’t,” he replied. “You won’t marry someone who makes you unhappy. And even if you do marry someone your family wants you to, maybe your children won’t. Things will have to change one day.”

“One day,” echoed Ursula. “I hope so.”

~~~

Vanessa continued to pester Ursula over the next few days, and it seemed as if she was giving Edward advice on how to win Ursula over. Ursula thought this was the case, because Edward backed off the terrible pick-up lines and turned instead to compliments and even normal conversation.

“How’s Quidditch practice going?” asked Edward, during a shared free period on Friday. “You must play well or else Flint wouldn’t have let you on the team.”

“It’s going well,” said Ursula, marking down a fact on her Transfiguration paper.

“It’s been very muddy lately,” continued Edward.

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “I have to clean my broom nearly every day.”

“Well your hair looks wonderful regardless.”

“Er — thanks.” Ursula scribbled down another sentence on her essay. “You… don’t look so bad yourself.”

“See,” muttered Vanessa, as they headed to Arithmancy. “Progress.”

“Courtesy,” corrected Ursula.

Saturday came, and Ursula and her friends lounged outside in the cool fall air, enjoying one of the last few days nice enough to do so. Edward made a point of passing repeatedly back and forth in front of her. He was accompanied by Lewis Burke, who rolled his eyes and smiled, and Gregory Shaw. Edward’s not-so-subtle attempts at catching her eye, combined with Vanessa’s comments at every attempt, finally wore Ursula down.

“There’s a Hogsmeade trip on Halloween,” hinted Vanessa, as Edward strolled by.

“Is there?” Ursula said, not looking up from her book.

“You know, Madam Puddifoot’s is festive and serves a nice lunch,” said Vanessa from behind her own book, as Edward talked loudly with his friends.

“Does it?” said Ursula, idly turning a page.

“You know, Edward has —”

“Fine!” Ursula slammed her book shut as Edward made another round and Vanessa continued to sing his praises. “I’ll go!”

“Really?” squealed Vanessa. “You will?”

Ursula sighed in defeat.

“Yes,” she said. “One date — that’s all. And he has to ask me himself.”

She glanced over to Edward, whose nose was slightly pink from cold.

“Call him over and put him out of his misery,” said Ursula. “Quick, before I change my mind.”

Vanessa wasted no time in beckoning Edward over. He came eagerly and managed to ask her to Hogsmeade with only two compliments, and he looked thrilled when she accepted.

Ursula didn’t know why she finally agreed. Maybe it was to get Vanessa to stop pestering her. Maybe it was to shut Edward up. Whatever the reason, she had sufficiently talked herself into it, and all she could hope for was that the date went well. Maybe Edward would surprise her.

She wasn’t so lucky.

The date started out well enough. Pumpkin wafted through the corridors on Halloween morning as usual, and Ursula spent a long time getting ready. She intricately braided her long hair, and dressed cute, in an emerald green sweater and tweed skirt, but warm, with tights and a thick coat.

“This is a favor for you,” she muttered to Vanessa as she climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall.

“Go on then,” said Vanessa, shooing Ursula towards her eager brother.

“Hello Edward,” said Ursula.

“Hello Ursula,” he said, with a wide grin. “You look wonderful.”

He offered her his arm and she took it.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been… looking forward to this. Shall we set off?”

“I’ve been looking forward to this as well,” said Edward. “And yes, let’s.”

They strolled along the path towards Hogsmeade, making casual small talk as they went.

“How was your governess?” asked Edward. “Mine was always a frightful crone.”

“Mine was formidable, to say the least,” replied Ursula. “She still comes by in the summer sometimes, to make sure Gemma, Vanessa, and I haven’t forgotten our lessons.”

“I expect you know French?”

“French, etiquette, and dancing,” said Ursula. Edward laughed.

“So all the important things?”

Ursula laughed, but it was a little forced.

“I heard you’re applying to work at the Ministry?”

“My father is setting me up with a job,” answered Edward, nodding. “In the Department of International Cooperation. I don’t have a great interest in diplomacy, but it’s a good job.”

“Seems like all the pureblood sons are working for the Ministry now,” said Ursula. “Ah, here we are.”

A bell tinkled as they entered Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. The decorations, rather than their usual white and pink, were varying shades of purple with accents of black, the closest the shop came to gothic festivity. The shop was already cramped, but rather than sit across from her like all the other couples, Edward sat beside Ursula, so close that their knees touched at all times. Ursula shifted as far away from him as she could without looking rude.

“What are you going to order?” said Ursula, looking intently at her menu.

“Just a light lunch for me, I think,” said Edward. He winked at her. “Wouldn’t want to be too full later.”

“Complimentary breadsticks for the couple,” said the waitress, setting them. “Do you know what you would like to order?”

“A ham sandwich, please,” said Ursula, closing her menu.

“I’ll have a cornish pasty,” said Edward. “And we’ll have some tea.”

When the waitress left, he scowled.

“You should have let me order for you,” he whispered.

“What difference does it make?” hissed Ursula back.

“I didn’t want to come to this restaurant, but it’s what girls like you like,” said Edward under his breath.

“We didn’t have to come here,” said Ursula, fighting to keep her tone light. She didn’t ask what he meant by girls like her.

“Well,” said Edward. “My last girlfriend liked it.”

“I see.”

Ursula was already regretting her decision. She decided to change the topic.

“Are you ready to take your NEWTs? I know I’m already studying for my OWLs,” said Ursula.

“Your grades won’t matter,” said Edward dismissively. “You have brains, but beauty and birth is more important for a wife.”

Ursula bristled.

“Why did you want to take me on a date?” she asked, changing the subject again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Edward. “You’re a great catch. You’re beautiful, charming, and friends with all the right people.”

He put a hand on her knee, and when she looked up he leaned in as if to kiss her. Ursula jerked back, her chair scraping against the ground. She pushed Edward’s hand away and scooted a little further to the left.

Edward brushed the failure off.

“We’re alike, you and I,” he said nonchalantly. “People like us stick together.”

Ursula didn’t respond. She was too busy looking for a way out. This had been a mistake. Whatever side of Edward this was, she wished she had never seen it.

“With a devoted trophy wife by my side, I’ll climb the Ministry ladder in no time,” continued Edward.

That was the last straw. Ursula needed to leave _now_.

Through the window, she spotted the Weasley twins, laughing and carrying large bags of Zonko’s merchandise. Ursula waved furtively, giving them the most beseeching look she could. Fred noticed, and nudged George, pointing to Ursula, just as Edward leaned in for another pass.

“Get off!” she said angrily.

“What, can’t a man get a kiss?” said Edward, crossing his arms with a frown. “After all I’ve done to court you. You’ve led me on.”

“Led you on?” Ursula couldn’t believe her ears. A few of the other diners were beginning to stare and she forced herself to stay calm, to not make a scene.

“Come on, just one —”

Edward was cut off as a great splash sounded, the bucket Fred had levitated over his head flipping upside down and emptying its muddy contents all over him. There were several great shouts in the room and Ursula leapt back. Edward spluttered furiously, wiping mud from his eyes.

“She said get off,” said Fred, coming up beside Ursula.

“So that’s what you’d better do,” said George, coming up on her other side.

Ursula took a moment to compose herself at the shock of it all. Then she paid their waitress — who was just now coming with their food and had got caught in the spray — twice what her meal was worth. She was also ready to pay Madam Puddifoot, who had come out to see what all the commotion was about, but the stout, plump witch refused.

“Don’t you worry about it, m’dear,” she said. “While the actions of those hooligans were certainly… _unorthodox_ , I do not condone the harassment of my patrons. I’ll deal with _him_ ,” she finished sternly, pointing to the very wet, very angry Edward. “Are _you_ alright, poppet?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Ursula. She stood tall, and stalked back to her table to retrieve her coat and — because she was absolutely starving — the breadsticks, which had somehow survived the splash untouched. Ursula pinned Edward with a glare as he fumbled to say something, then led Fred and George out the door. The bell tinkled.

“Are you always so calm, cool, and collected?” marveled Fred, as the three of them strolled down the street.

“Thank you both for saving me back there,” said Ursula. “My next plan was to jinx him. I can’t believe I ever agreed to go out with him.”

“Why did you?” asked George.

“Partly as a favor for Vanessa,” admitted Ursula. “So she could stop singing her brother’s praises. I had to talk myself into it.”

Fred snorted.

“We only caught the very end of your date. How bad was it?”

“Awful,” said Ursula. “Absolutely awful. He was upset that I didn’t let him order for me, then said he only took me to Madam Puddifoot’s because his last girlfriend liked it and that’s ‘what girls like you like.’ Then he said my grades won’t matter, tried to kiss me, said he was looking forward to having a trophy wife, and tried to kiss me again!”

George whistled.

“That is bad,” he said. “And you didn’t know he’d be like that when he asked you out?”

“Well, he’s terrible at flirting,” conceded Ursula, “but no, this was the first time I’ve seen him act like that.”

“You know, we’ve never been in Madam Puddifoot’s before, have we, George?” said Fred.

“I don’t think we have, Freddie,” replied George. “Do you think we’re banned?”

Ursula considered for a moment.

“Probably not,” she said finally. “Madam Puddifoot is more likely to ban Edward than you. His actions were more ungentlemanly than yours.”

They both nodded and proceeded to tease her light-heartedly about her posh choice of words as they rounded the Shrieking Shack from a distance.

“Why’d you take the breadsticks?” asked Fred, half laughing and pointing at the bundle clutched in her hands.

“Want one?” said Ursula. “I’m absolutely starving.”

The three of them shared the breadsticks she’d taken as they wound their way back to Hogwarts.

“You should know,” said George eventually, “that was puddle water.”

“Good,” said Ursula bluntly. Their grins stretched wider. “He deserved it.”

“Who’d have thought,” crowed Fred. “Ursula Black is on board with revenge. That’s not prefect behavior.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? He deserved that and more,” repeated Ursula. “Speaking of prefect behavior, how about twenty points to Gryffindor each?”

“As your galant knights in shining armor, we thank you,” said Fred with a bow.

“You know, you could give him a detention,” suggested George.

“Don’t tempt me,” said Ursula with a laugh. “I think this little blow to his reputation would be enough.”

“As long as you can laugh about it and _never_ go out with him again,” said Fred, quite seriously.

“I won’t. You can be sure of that,” promised Ursula.

They reached the castle and were glad to escape the chilly wind. Ursula crossed the Entrance Hall towards the door to the dungeons.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a best friend to berate,” said Ursula. “Thanks again for rescuing me.”

“Our pleasure,” said Fred. “Thanks for the house points.”

“And the breadsticks!” added George.

Ursula laughed and headed down the long, winding stairs. She was more grateful to Fred and George than they knew. Since she’d made her friends swear not to spy on her, something she almost regretted now, they had gone to Hogsmeade early if they’d gone at all.

Cassius was the first to spot her as she entered the common room and he leapt up eagerly.

“Hello, lovebird. Where’s your date?” he asked. Noticing her expression, that of cool anger, his smile dropped. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” said Ursula, shaking her head. “Where’s Vanessa?”

Cassius’s beaming grin returned as he looped his arm through hers and led her across the common room, calling, “Oh, Vanessa!” in a sweet, sing-song voice at the top of his lungs.

Ursula stopped in front of her friend. She wasn’t mad at her, but she needed to know how bad the date was. Vanessa looked up as she approached, paling slightly.

“How was it?” she asked tentatively.

“You are so lucky I love you,” said Ursula, shaking her head slowly. Vanessa winced.

“Your brother is a swine,” said Ursula, loud enough that the rest of the common room could hear her.

Across the room sat Cressida Selwyn, Jacob’s cousin, a sixth year who was one of the nicest people Ursula knew, and yet the source of every piece of gossip she could ever want to know. She didn’t spread rumors, exactly, but she collected secrets, and for the right price, she would give them up. This made her a powerful ally. Cressida didn’t turn, but her quill moved a bit slower across the parchment before her as Ursula went on.

“What did he do?” asked Vanessa. She looked like she didn’t entirely want to know the answer, but Lilian, Adrian, and Cassius certainly did.

“Where should I start?” said Ursula. “When he said my grades don’t matter or that he was excited to have a trophy wife, hmm? Or perhaps when he tried to kiss me, not once, but twice?”

“I am so sorry,” said Vanessa, and she looked it. “He’s said things like that in the past, but since he didn’t when he was flirting with you, I thought —”

“You thought he’d changed? Or maybe he wouldn’t be like that with me?” said Ursula. Her tone softened. “I don’t blame you. I suppose he thought since he went to the trouble of flirting with me, he could act how he liked on our date, like it was a guarantee that I would like him. That’s certainly why he felt entitled to a kiss.”

“You didn’t?” said Adrian.

“I most certainly did not,” said Ursula.

“How did you escape?” asked Lilian, half laughing behind her hand.

“The Weasley twins dropped a bucket of puddle water on his head for me,” Ursula explained. “I walked back with them.”

“Well, well, well,” said Cassius. “Your knights in shining armor.”

“Funny,” said Ursula. “That’s exactly what Fred said.”

Ursula described the date in as much detail as she could bear to her friends, and when Edward stomped into the common room half an hour later, still damp, furious, and covered in mud, she and her friends weren’t the only ones to give him the cold shoulder. Indeed, Cressida’s skill at spreading gossip combined with her rigid intolerance of bad manners and harassment had caused an immediate blow to Edward’s reputation.

He would recover, Ursula knew, as she and her friends headed to dinner. He was a Shafiq, after all. But it was nice to see his ego knocked down a few pegs. Fred was right; revenge was sweet.

The Great Hall had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes. The food was delicious, as usual, and Ursula was still hungry from her lunch, or lack thereof. The feast finished with entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Ursula and the other Slytherins had barely returned to the common room when Professor Snape arrived, telling them all to return to the Great Hall and not explaining a word. Only the Gryffindors had any idea what was going on, it seemed.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. “I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,” he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. “Send word with one of the ghosts.”

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, “Oh, yes, you’ll be needing…”

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

“Sleep well,” said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” shouted Percy. “Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!”

“Sirius Black!” said Lee Jordan loudly. “Sirius Black tried to break into our common room!”

“Hang on,” said a fourth year Gryffindor with a high pitched voice that Ursula didn’t know. “Why should we trust _her_?”

Ursula looked over her shoulder in surprise. Penelope Clearwater had been assigning them in groups of three to watch different doorways around the Great Hall. Several other students had caught on to what the Gryffindor was saying, and were nodding and pointing at her as well. This could turn ugly if she wasn’t careful.

“Why not?” said Cassius. The boy shriveled under his glare.

“Because she’s related to him!” piped up a tiny Ravenclaw girl.

“Unfortunate, isn’t it?” said Ursula, keeping her face neutral. “He was disowned before I was born. Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I’ve never even met him.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but none of them needed to know that.

“Ursula, take Robert and Blossom and watch the door on the left of the hall,” said Penelope. Ursula nodded.

Robert Hilliard was the Ravenclaw keeper. He was quiet, polite, and studious, and it was known that his ambition was to be a Healer. He, Blossom, and Ursula leaned against the wall on either side of their assigned door, their wands out just in case. Their door led to a small, rarely used corridor, where the windows along one side gave them a nice view of the waning moon.

“How’d he get in?” said Blossom, her voice small and slightly trembling.

“No idea,” said Ursula.

“He couldn’t have Apparated,” said Robert. “You can’t inside of Hogwarts.”

“What sort of disguise could fool the Dementors?” said Blossom. “Aren’t there enchantments guarding the school?”

“I bet he escaped Azkaban the same way he broke in here,” said Ursula.

The Fat Friar floated over to them.

“Don’t fret,” he said, his usually jolly face serious. “Dumbledore and the other teachers will find him. But it might be a long night for the three of you.”

“We’ll manage,” said Robert. “Thank you for checking on us.”

Percy called for lights out, and all the candles went out at once. This left the start sky that patterned the ceiling and the silvery ghosts as the only source of light. Few students went to bed, and a faint whispering like the rustle of wind through dry grass filled the hall.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in.The prefects were all tired but alert, though each group had decided to take turns napping. Ursula suspected that was why Penelope had put them in groups of three. While Blossom dozed, Ursula quite shamelessly eavesdropped on Percy and Professor Dumbledore. After all, if they were going to talk in front of students, they couldn’t expect the students not to listen.

“Any sign of him, Professor?” asked Percy in a whisper.

“No. All well here?”

“Everything under control, sir.”

“Good. There’s no point moving them all now. I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.”

“And the Fat Lady, sir?”

“Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr. Filch restore her.”

The door to the hall creaked open, and Professor Snape’s footsteps clipped across the stone floor.

“Headmaster?” said Professor Snape. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”

“What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”

“All searched…”

“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” asked Snape. Ursula slowed her breathing, trying to be as quiet as possible as she strained to hear their conversation.

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

Ursula could see that Professor Snape looked angry. Professor Dumbledore looked grave, and Percy was rapt with attention.

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?” said Professor Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

“I do, Severus,” said Professor Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —”

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it, student or staff,” said Professor Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Professor Snape didn’t reply.

“I must go down to the Dementors,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

“Didn’t they want to help, sir?” said Percy.

“Oh yes,” said Professor Dumbledore coldly. “But I’m afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.”

Percy looked slightly abashed. Professor Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Professor Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.

Everything Ursula had overheard was quite interesting, from the words said to the tone they were expressed in to the stance of those talking. She would have to think on it for a while, if she was to make sense of it.

“Your turn,” she murmured to Robert. Ursula knelt down and gently woke Blossom, who stretched, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and stood.

“You know,” said Blossom sleepily, as Robert sat down and nodded off, his head resting against the wall. “You haven’t told me about your date.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” said Ursula, her voice a whisper. “It’s quite a grim tale.”

“I need something to keep me awake,” murmured Blossom. “So you’d better begin.”


	47. The Animagus

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Dennis Moon spent all of their next Herbology class trying to convince Lewis Carter that Black was actually a ghost. Lewis just sighed and jokingly asked if Dennis had been smoking anything recently.

It had rained steadily all week, but to Ursula’s disappointment, there had yet to be any lightning accompanying it, which meant she was still hurrying up the stairs every morning and evening to place her wand over her heart and recite the incantation. The Slytherin team practised every day for their match on Saturday, but midweek Flint gathered the team in the changing room with a nasty smile.

“We’re not playing this weekend,” he announced, to general shouts of dismay.

Ursula waited until some of the anger from the others had died down before asking in as calm of a voice as she could manage, “Why not?”

“Two reasons,” said Flint. “One, playing in this weather will damage our chances, I won’t pretend. But more importantly, we want to beat Gryffindor, don’t we? And what better way to hurt  _ their  _ chances than throwing them off their game at the last minute?”

“What will you tell Wood?” asked Adrian.

“That our seeker’s still injured,” said Flint, his nasty smile growing even nastier. “Play up the injury tomorrow, Malfoy. And Higgs, say you’re ill. We don’t want Gryffindor suggesting we use you instead.”

Now that the other Slytherins had had a moment to think about it, they agreed that it was a smart move. Shady, underhanded, and devious, but smart. They all promised not to say a word to the Gryffindors before Flint did, but most of the team left the changing room smirking considerably more than they had when they entered it.

It was late Thursday evening when Fred and George cornered Ursula in the library, just before her prefect patrol was supposed to start. She was finishing up a long, arduus Potions essay when they arrived, sopping wet and muddy.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re not playing on Saturday?” demanded Fred.

Ursula pulled back her nearly two-foot essay so the Weasleys wouldn’t drip on the drying ink. She was still writing as she talked.

“Why… why would I do that?” she asked slowly, scanning her essay for errors.

“Why are you snakes really not playing?” said George.

“The other  _ Slytherins  _ and I can’t play because Draco’s injury is acting up and Terence is ill,” said Ursula innocently. She cast a drying spell on the ink. “We can’t play without a seeker.”

“Wood says this is a plot to avoid playing in the rain,” said Fred.

“I can’t pretend it isn’t a relief not to play in the storm,” replied Ursula. “But that’s as good of an explanation as you’re going to get, Weasley.”

Ursula rolled up her completed essay and shoved it into her bag with her quill and ink.

“Watch out,” she said, glancing over their shoulders.

“ _ Mud _ in the library?” screeched Madam Pince, appearing suddenly from between the shelves like a vulture diving towards prey.

“Disgraceful, isn’t it?” agreed Ursula. Fred and George gaped at them. “I was just telling them the same thing. I’ll take care of them, if you don’t mind, Madam Pince.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “The students in aisle seven have food with them.”

“Well,” said Madam Pince irritably, looking much more eager to act on Ursula’s tip. “If they leave with you right now, then I suppose —”

“Glad to be of assistance, Madam Pince,” said Ursula, sweeping up the main aisle with Fred and George on her heels. “I’ll take them straight to Professor Snape. I’d hate to see a book ruined on my watch, after all.”

Madam Pince nodded approvingly and stalked off into a deeper part of the library. Ursula led Fred and George quickly out of the library before she could change her mind.

“Snape? Really Black?” complained George.

“What makes you think I’m taking you to Professor Snape?” said Ursula breezily. Their jaws dropped.

“You  _ lied _ ?” Fred couldn’t believe his ears. “Are there even students with food in aisle seven?”

“Perhaps,” said Ursula. “Or perhaps they were just too noisy and it got on my nerves. Who’s to say. Now, Weasleys, go clean yourselves up before Filch finds you.”

Fred and George obeyed, heading up the stairs absolutely flabbergasted. Ursula slung her bag over her shoulder and strolled down the corridor to meet Cassius, who she was patrolling with tonight, making no mention of the incident with the Weasleys.

The next day, Professor McGonagall requested Ursula stay back after class.

“What does she want with you?” asked Lilian as the bell rang. Ursula shrugged.

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

Lilian and her other friends left and Professor McGonagall led Ursula into her office.

“You’ve been reciting the incantation every morning and evening?” she said, looking at Ursula over her square spectacles.

“Yes, Professor,” said Ursula. “It’s exhausting, but I won’t give up now.”

“Excellent,” said Professor McGonagall. “I wanted to talk to you for two reasons. First, as you know, it has been raining steadily for the past week or so. Assuming you’re planning to attend the Quidditch match tomorrow, I would consider bringing the potion with you in case the storm turns electrical. You wouldn’t want to miss it, as who knows when the next storm will come around.”

Ursula nodded.

“No, I certainly wouldn’t want that,” she agreed. “And the other reason?”

“At this stage, I think it is safe to say  _ when  _ you succeed instead of  _ if _ , Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall. “So  _ when  _ you succeed, I have arranged for your success to be published in  _ Transfiguration Today _ . This is still something you’re interested in?”

“I would be honored,” said Ursula eagerly.

“Good,” said Professor McGonagall. “You may go.”

Grinning, Ursula followed her friends down to the Great Hall for lunch. Cassius was heatedly explaining his hatred for asparagus when she arrived, so she was saved from coming up with an explanation for what Professor McGonagall talked with her about.

Saturday arrived, the rain and accompanying mud unrelenting, and Ursula tucked the small black box containing her potion in her messenger bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she grabbed her umbrella and followed Gemma out the door to their dorm.

“Why,” asked Cassius as they climbed the stairs from the dungeons, “do you even have a Slytherin-themed umbrella?”

He was referring to the handle of Ursula’s umbrella, which was an intricately crafted silver snake.

“It’s not Slytherin-themed, it’s snake-themed,” said Ursula. “Oh, and it’s enchanted, so it bites.”

“Of course it does,” teased Cassius with a sigh. “Can’t you own anything that isn’t cursed or bewitched?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” said Ursula lightly.

The Slytherins all opened their umbrellas as they stepped out into the pouring rain. Even with their boots, umbrellas, and raincoats, they were damp and splattered with mud by the time they reached the stands surrounding the Quidditch Pitch. Ursula excused herself momentarily from the group to stash the potion where she would soon transform, should the storm turn electrical, to keep it from being disturbed until then. Rain beat down on them from all sides, and as she joined her friends high up in the stands, Ursula turned her eyes to the dark, heavy clouds that filled the sky, looking for any sign of lightning. She shivered.

“Cold?” shouted Lucien, over the roaring wind that threatened to whip away their umbrellas, hats, and scarves. He squeezed past Adrian to stand beside Ursula, shivering as he was not as prepared for the cold weather as she.

“A bit!” shouted Ursula back. “But not as cold as you!”

“Come closer and we can keep each other warm!” shouted Lucien with a roguish wink. Ursula was glad he couldn’t see her blush through the downpour as she sidled closer until they were under one umbrella. Truth be told, it did little to provide warmth, but that didn’t stop Lucien from putting an arm over Ursula’s shoulders. He grinned at her as the game began, and she found herself smiling back.

The spectators could barely see the two teams, with Hufflepuff’s canary yellow robes being only marginally easier to spot than Gryffindor’s scarlet red. The blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded faint and tinny. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Ursula found herself increasingly thankful she wasn’t playing in this weather, whether it was a shady move or not.

Lee Jordan did his best to commentate, but it was almost impossible to hear over the wind, so they only caught bits and pieces of the action.

“Johnson scores! And there’s — Ash passes — to Scamander — there’s Weasley with — can’t tell — the Bludger just — nearly fell — Spinnet with — no sign of the Snitch — has Diggory —”

Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded at the same time the first flash of lightning struck, startling Ursula.

“Looks like Gryffindor’s called a timeout!” said Lucien. “Wait — where are you going?”

Ursula had ducked out from under Lucien’s arm, opened her umbrella, and was busy edging down the row of sopping students.

“Sorry Lucien! There’s something I have to do!” she called back, and that was all the answer she gave. If he said more, his words were lost in the wind.

Ursula made it through the crowd in the stands, nearly slipping on the slick stairs. She forced herself not to run even as her heart hammered in excitement.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, her boots squelching in the mud as she crossed towards Hagrid’s hut, heading along the edge of the Forbidden Forest until she reached the now-empty paddock where Hagrid had introduced them to the Hufflepuffs. There on a low-lying tree branch she had slung her bag, where the overhang of a branch above it kept it mostly dry.

It was the perfect spot for Ursula to transform. Large, empty, away from everyone else, and the trees overhead lightened the sheets of rain pouring down on her. Another flash of lightning struck, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. It was time.

All her hard work, all the times she dragged herself out of bed and upstairs, all the times she had wanted to spit out that stupid leaf, they had all led up to this. Her hard work was about to pay off, and she was terrified that it wouldn’t work.

Ursula took out the small black box from her bag, keeping the stopper of the vial firmly secure as she carefully slid it out of the box. Inside was one bloodred mouthful of potion.

Heart threatening to pound right out of her chest, Ursula put the tip of her wand over her heart and spoke the incantation one final time.

“ _ Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus. _ ”

Then Ursula drank the potion.

Ursula gagged, a fiery pain building as soon as the potion hit her throat. She dropped her wand, focusing on breathing as the pain spread throughout her body, to the ends of her fingers and the tips of her toes. She could feel her heartbeat more intensely than ever, until her heartbeat drowned out the pouring rain, until it felt like her heartbeat had doubled.

It  _ had  _ doubled — she had a second heartbeat, pounding in rhythm with her own. It was the strangest combination of feelings she had ever experienced. The pain, the excitement, and a strange, twisting soreness. All of a sudden, she could see it in her mind. Her Animagus form.

Ursula could feel herself changing — shaggy black fur… a long snout… short, round ears… one heartbeat disappeared. The pain faded, and Ursula looked around. She was standing on all fours, each paw ending in rough pads and sharp claws.

She had done it.

Her Animagus was a black bear.

Ursula was elated as she realized her success, and bounded around the paddock, exploring her new form. She loved it. She loved the way her powerful shoulders moved, her claws digging into the wet grass, the way she shook the rain from her thick fur. She thought she caught sight of movement at the other end of the paddock, but her long distance vision wasn’t so good. Ursula knew she ought to change back and return to the game or find Professor McGonagall at once, but there was one thing she had to try first.

Ursula turned to the tree she was standing nearest and stood on her hindquarters, bracing her claws against the bark as she examined the climb. Slowly, slowly, slowly, she reached one paw up and then another, and ever so slowly she climbed up the tree and perched on a branch, surveying her success with more satisfaction and pride than she had ever felt before.

Finally she climbed back down and focused hard on transforming back into a person, until she seemed to shrink and grow at the same time and suddenly found herself sitting on the wet grass, beaming from ear to ear.

Ursula collected her wand and bag, stuffing the empty box and vial back into the bag and picking up her umbrella, though it was no use. She was thoroughly soaked at this point, but she couldn’t care less. She was so thrilled with herself for becoming an Animagus, and she couldn’t wait to show Professor McGonagall and the rest of her friends.

When she reached the Quidditch Pitch, the students leaving were much grimmer-faced than they had been when they arrived. Cassius spotted her at once and came running over.

“Ursula! There you are! After the Dementors flooded the pitch —”

“They did what?”

Ursula’s mouth formed a little o as Cassius explained the whole story. The Dementors had arrived, and Harry had passed out just as Cedric caught the Snitch, and Professor Dumbledore had saved Harry when he fell off his broom. But even that grim news couldn’t dim her enthusiasm, combined with — if she was being honest — a little touch of relief that she hadn’t seen the Dementors.

“Where were you?” asked Lilian. “Lucien didn’t know where you went.”

“I’ll explain at the meeting tonight,” said Ursula. “Right now, I’ve got to find Professor McGonagall…”

~~~

Sirius watched as Ursula Black transformed for the first time into her Animagus.

It was a skill most adult wizards wouldn’t attempt, and here she was mastering it. How old was she? Fifteen? Sixteen? Fifteen, he decided. The same age he had been. He, and James, and…  _ Peter _ . Remus was here, at the castle, doing what he had always wanted. The traitor was here as well.  _ So close _ … so close to Harry.

Sirius hadn’t seen Ursula since Cassiopeia’s funeral. She had only been… Merlin, Ursula had only been two at the time. So young. Sirius had had plenty of time to think about those he’d lost, and seeing Ursula now… she was the spitting image of her mother.

Cassiopeia Black, who could take a joke, who looked for him at those horrible parties, who was the picture of innocence. Cassiopeia Black, who had made an effort to talk to him even after he’d been disowned. Cassiopeia Black, who went from the perfect daughter to dead, disappearing without explanation. Cassiopeia Black, who’d laid a little bundle in his arms and declared  _ Isn’t she perfect _ ?

Sirius knew Ursula had gone to the Malfoys after her death. He remembered her father, a Scamander with an American accent. He chuckled. What a shock it must have been for Cassiopeia’s parents. He knew Ursula had inherited the House of Black. He’d heard Bellatrix say so with a shrill cackle. Ursula was the last Black left who wasn’t already married, in prison, or disowned.

Sirius knew what kind of pressure that put on her. He’d grown up with it for sixteen years, but he doubted she fought it like he had. She was a Slytherin, after all. But so was Cassiopeia. And Andromeda. He was sure his cousin wouldn’t want her daughter, her pride and joy, forced to choose a side, or worse, have no choice at all, should another… should something happen. If Ursula acted as much like her mother as she looked, then she was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course her Animagus was a black bear.

Within the Black family, there seemed to be an odd propensity for ironic animal forms that matched their names. Sirius’s Animagus was a black dog, and though Cassiopeia was never an Animagus, her patronus was a crow, the mascot of the Black family.

Sirius watched Ursula play for a moment as a bear, shaking rain from her round ears and running her silver claws through the wet grass. When she became human again, she was grinning like mad, and the sight gave him hope. If his name was ever cleared, he would like to meet Ursula properly.


	48. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw

“Well done!”

Ursula grinned at Professor McGonagall in bear form, showing off her sharp teeth. Professor McGonagall looked both stunned and proud, and she was positively beaming as Ursula transformed back into a human.

“You have truly accomplished a difficult feat, Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall. “Fifty points to Slytherin, I’d say, and I’ll let the Animagus Registry know at once. You should be very, very proud of yourself, as I am.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula, her heart swelling from the praise.

“Though I doubt you are the kind of student to show off your abilities, I will advise against it anyway,” said Professor McGonagall. “However, I encourage you to show your friends what you’ve accomplished. You may go, Ms. Black. You are a very bright and capable witch.”

Ursula thanked her again and practically skipped off to the dungeons. It wasn’t until she neared the common room that she realized she was still dripping wet, so she headed straight to her dorm to shower, successfully avoiding her friends’ persistent badgering about where she’d been for the rest of the afternoon by staying holed up in her dorm. She then answered their questions at dinner as annoyingly vague as she could, until at last they gave up and agreed to let her tell them before that night’s meeting of the League of Laurels.

The very last thing her friends were expecting when they walked into Dungeon Six was a black bear lounging in front of the fireplace. Vanessa shrieked and Cassius pulled out his wand as the bear got up and padded towards them.

“ _ Stup _ —”

“Don’t tell me you were going to jinx me?” said Ursula, changing back into a person before Cassius could finish the spell. Vanessa shrieked again. The other three looked flabbergasted.

“Ursula, what —” began Adrian.

“How did you —” continued Cassius.

“You’re an Animagus?” squeaked Lilian, cutting them both off. “This is amazing! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I just did, didn’t I?” said Ursula, grinning. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“A surprise? Ursula, I’m  _ amazed _ !” said Cassius. “How long have you been planning this? Don’t you have to hold a leaf in your mouth for a whole month or something?”

Ursula nodded.

“I started the day before we came to school,” she said. Adrian’s jaw dropped.

“You’ve kept it secret from us for that long?” he said incredulously.

“Actually, I asked Professor McGonagall at the end of last year,” said Ursula.

“You have to tell us the whole story,” demanded Lilian. “Immediately.”

So she did. Ursula explained how she kept the leaf in her mouth, how she got up every morning to see the sunrise, and, most importantly, how she transformed.

“Why?” asked Vanessa.

“I wanted to see if I could,” answered Ursula honestly.

“I’ve never doubted your Transfiguration skills, but I  _ certainly  _ won’t doubt them now,” said Cassius.

“Was it hard?” asked Adrian.

“Very,” answered Ursula. “But enough about me, we have work to do.”

“Right,” said Cassius. “Which spell should we start with today,  _ Impedimenta  _ or  _ Stupefy _ ?”

~~~

“Ms. Black, if you could just transform so we can take note of your unique markings,” directed Mrs. Rook.

It was Monday, and during Ursula’s free period after lunch she met with Mr. Spindle, the head of the Misuse of Magic Office, and Mrs. Rook, head of the Animagus Registry, to make her registration official. They were in Professor McGonagall’s office while she taught a class of second years.

“Silver claws,” said Mrs. Rook, circling Ursula. Her assistant, Lachlan Doyle, took notes. “A thin white ring around her neck.”

_ Like a string of pearls _ , thought Ursula.

“Anything else?” asked Mr. Doyle.

“Her grey eyes,” said Mrs. Rook. “That’s it, Ms. Black, you may transform back.”

Ursula did so, and observed the photo they had taken of her Animagus. Last night she had shut herself in the bathroom and transformed just to see what she looked like in the mirror.

“Ms. Black, if you could sign here confirming that this information is correct,” said Mr. Spindle. “And then on the following page as well.”

Ursula signed her name on both pages, the ink shining in her neat, elegant script.

“Now, sign our official certificate of registration and the copy for you to keep,” said Mrs. Rook. “Excellent. Well, Ms. Black, I think we’re done here. Congratulations, you are now a fully registered Animagus, and the youngest person to register with the British Ministry in half a century.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula, shaking each of their hands. “Good day to you all.”

“Well done, Ms. Black,” said Mr. Spindle as they shook hands. “Good day to you.”

Ursula took her copy of her certificate and went immediately back to her dorm, hanging it proudly above her desk. She had shown Gemma that morning, and her friend was equally jealous and impressed.

The following day at breakfast, Professor Snape informed Ursula that a reporter and a photographer from  _ Transfiguration Today _ were set to come to Hogwarts during third period, when Lilian had Muggle Studies and everyone else was free. She would be escorted to Professor Dumbledore’s office to meet them by Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.

“Cauldron Cakes,” said Professor Snape to the large and rather ugly stone gargoyle outside of Professor Dumbledore’s office, and it sprang aside to let them pass.

Ursula had never been to the Headmaster’s Office before. It was a large, circular room with many windows, and the walls were decorated with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Any remaining wall space was occupied by books. The office was also host to a number of spindly tables upon which were set delicate-looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke at intervals. Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore’s famous phoenix, was perched silently nearby, and was busy cleaning his beautiful crimson feathers with his long, gleaming gold beak.

Professor McGonagall was already there, and she and Professor Dumbledore were speaking with a broad, middle aged man with a loud laugh and a squat young man holding a camera. The first to notice her and Professor Snape’s arrival was not any of them, but rather one of the portraits on the wall behind Professor Dumbledore’s desk.

“Everyone, meet my great-great-great granddaughter, Ursula Black,” announced Phineas Nigellus Black, with all the suitable pomp one would expect. Aside from being Ursula’s third great grandfather and the least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had, it was his wife and Ursula’s namesake who had named Corvus Manor.

All eyes swiveled to her, including those belonging to many of the portraits in the room.

“Ah, Ms. Black, there you are,” said Professor Dumbledore, surveying her over his half-moon spectacles. “Meet Mr. Hamish Hickory and Mr. Alabaster Bulb of  _ Transfiguration Today _ .”

“A pleasure, Miss, truly,” said Mr. Hickory, shaking her hand enthusiastically. The photographer just nodded to her. “Shall we get right down to it? I’d like to ask you a few questions, for the article.”

Professor McGonagall conjured a chair for Ursula, taking up a rather protective stance behind her. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape moved off to one side, talking quietly.

“Now, Miss, what made you want to become an Animagus?” asked Mr. Hickory, taking out his notepad. “Feel free to go into as much detail as you’d like.”

Ursula explained why she loved Transfiguration so much, blushing when she talked about how Professor McGonagall was her role model and how she wanted to follow in her footsteps. Professor McGonagall was glad her prized pupil couldn’t see her face, as she was tearing up.

Mr. Hickory asked Ursula about her plans for the future — those related to Transfiguration, of course — and about how it felt to transform. He got a statement from Professor McGonagall, and one each from the Headmaster and her Head of House. Twice Professor Dumbledore had to tell Phineas Nigellus Black that he was  _ not _ , in fact, the one being interviewed.

“And now,” said Mr. Hickory, reaching into a deep purple pouch that had been sitting on Professor Dumbledore’s desk. “The moment I’m sure you’ve been waiting for. I am delighted to declare you, Ursula Black,  _ Transfiguration Today _ ’s Most Promising Newcomer!”

Mr. Hickory shook Ursula’s hand as Mr. Bulb’s camera went off with a flash. He handed her a large plaque declaring the accomplishment, and Ursula was positively ecstatic as she accepted it. This was one of the moments in her life when she knew her mother was proud of her. She could feel it in the pearls around her neck.

“If all the professors could gather around the student,” instructed Mr. Bulb. “Now Hamish, join them. One with just her and Professor McGonagall. Good. Now one with just her. Transform on the count of three please, one — two — three —”

A moving picture of Ursula transforming into a black bear appeared on the cover of Thursday’s issue of  _ Transfiguration Today _ . She kept the issue on her desk for weeks, above which she hung the plaque proudly. It wasn’t long before she received congratulatory letters from her aunt and uncle, then the Scamanders, and eventually her dad, but it was Lucian who congratulated her first, the morning the issue was delivered.

“Hey, Ursula,” he said, walking up the Slytherin table at breakfast to see her. He was holding a copy of the magazine. “Congratulations. This is a big deal.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula. “I’m really proud of it. I didn’t know you subscribed to  _ Transfiguration Today _ .”

“I haven’t been for long,” said Lucian, nodding. Peregrine called his name. “But it’s really interesting. Congrats again. I’ll see you at practice.”

“See you then,” said Ursula, smiling at him. When he was gone, she turned back to her friends, who quickly tried to show interest in their breakfast. “Which one of you told him?”

“What makes you think we told him anything?” said Lilian innocently.

“Because he barely made it into NEWT Transfiguration,” said Ursula. “I take it you told him, then.”

“Yes,” said Lilian with a groan. “Just go out with him already,  _ please _ . I’m  _ dying  _ to go on a double date.”

Lilian had begun dating Philip Carlyle, a fellow Slytherin and Arithmancy enthusiast, who Ursula’s grandmother would have called a ‘polite young man’, a few days before the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match. He was shy, compared to Lilian’s outgoing personality, and sweet, and they made a good match.

“He’s been flirting with you for forever, it feels like,” said Cassius. “And you, with him, might I add.”

“You may not,” said Ursula, pursing her lips.

Truth be told, she  _ was  _ flirting with him. And Cassius — and the rest of her friends — knew it. It’s not like either Ursula or Lucian was trying to hide it. Ursula wasn’t entirely sure why they were dancing around each other in this way, but she enjoyed the process immensely. On Saturday, they spent the morning trading sly remarks with one another in the common room, but when it came time to visit Hogsmeade, they headed to the wizarding village alone.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team was good, but Slytherin was better. They were ready for their match the following Saturday, and the only thing Ursula was worried about was overconfidence. The Slytherin team came up to breakfast with their usual clamor and raucous trash-talking of the other team, particularly from the six boys. Ursula was much more dignified in her own sly, well-meaning insults.

“It’s Alice’s first game today,” said Lilian. “She’s quite nervous.”

“As she should be,” said Ursula. “We’re going to clobber her and the rest of the team. They don’t stand a chance.”

“You’re too competitive,” said Lilian, but she was smiling.

“Don’t tell me you’re not,” replied Ursula. “You play for Slytherin, don’t you?”

“Of course,” said Lilian.. “Good luck to Alice, I suppose, but I want you to win.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Ursula, knocking her shoulders affectionately. “I expect you bet on us?”

Lilian snorted.

“Ten Galleons to Lewis that Slytherin wins, five Sickles to Dennis that you score the first goal,” she said. Dennis, along with Alice and the captain, Roger Davies, were Ravenclaw’s chasers.

“I’ll do my best,” said Ursula. “But you and Cassius better cheer when I do.”

“Oy, Black, it’s time!” called Flint.

Ursula and the rest of the team headed to the changing room, continuing to bash Ravenclaw — only half playfully — the whole way.

“Pucey, remember to go low, Black go high,” said Flint, as Ursula laced up her boots. “Derrick, cover her, Bole, watch Malfoy. Black, remember that move we practiced. You’re smaller than Pucey, and more agile, so steal the Quaffle and we’ll break their formation. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Ursula.

“Rather unladylike, wouldn’t you say?” teased Adrian. “Stealing the Quaffle and leading the charge?”

“If Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures are the only unladylike things I do, just let me have them,” said Ursula.

The Slytherins marched onto the pitch in their emerald green robes to a roar from their side of the stands, while the rest of the school booed and jeered. The Slytherins matched them with their own boos and hisses as the Ravenclaws came out in blue robes. Marcus Flint and Roger Davies shook hands, both looking as if they were trying to break the others’ fingers as they did.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the game began.

“Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle —” narrated Lee, as the Slytherins wasted no time bolting down the pitch. “Flint dodges a Bludger hit by Luca Bailey — passes to Pucey — back to Flint — Flint nears Ravenclaw keeper Robert Hilliard — OOH! Pucey hit by Bludger from Jack Foxx — too bad he missed Flint — Hilliard dives — BUT FLINT PASSES TO BLACK — SLYTHERIN SCORES!”

A resounding cheer went up among the Slytherins as Ursula caught the Quaffle that Flint tossed up to her and threw it clear through the left hoop. Robert Hilliard, having ignored her since Flint was in possession of the Quaffle, had gone right to block Flint. All of their hard practices had paid off, and Lilian had won her bet.

“Ravenclaw in possession — Moon to Fenharrow — Fenharrow passes to Davies — Davies to Moon — ouch, Bludger to the stomach by Slytherin Beater Peregrine Derrick — Ursula Black has the Quaffle now — pass to Pucey — blocked by Bludger from Bailey — the Quaffle is back to Dennis Moon, who seems to have recovered from his stomach injury — Ravenclaws in formation — come on, get it past Bletchley — it’s easy, he’s got the face of a troll with none of the strength —”

“JORDAN!” shouted Professor McGonagall.

“Only joking, Professor,” said Lee. Bletchley looked furious. Flint signalled to Adrian and Ursula to put the other move they’d practiced into play.

The Slytherins followed the Ravenclaws down the pitch, flying low and as fast as they could. Ursula was at the head of the formation, which Flint had only begrudgingly done, and only because he had come up with it himself. The Ravenclaws had a considerable lead, but their brooms were much faster, and they gained on them quickly.

“Come on, Ursula!” shouted Adrian.

“Now!” added Flint.

Ursula yanked on the handle of her broom, shooting upward as the three Ravenclaw chasers neared the goalposts.

“Fenharrow gets ready to score — this is her first chance for a goal — but here comes Black, shooting up like a firework — she steals! Ursula Black steals the Quaffle from Fenharrow — and here comes Pucey and Flint — and the Ravenclaw chasers are completely out of formation! What a move!”

Ursula winked at Alice as she snatched the Quaffle from her hands and went soaring over her head. The move was perfectly legal as long as she didn’t bump into Alice — and she didn’t. Ursula could’ve laughed at the Ravenclaws’ stunned looks if she didn’t need to focus on dodging a Bludger. Peregrine whacked it back towards Roger.

“Black passes to Pucey — Pucey to Flint — Flint back to Black — yikes, near miss collision — I guess Dennis Moon isn’t over Black stealing the Quaffle — OUCH! Bludger to the nose from Lucian Bole! Looks broken! He doesn’t have the balls to ask out Ursula Black, but he has control of this ball —”

“JORDAN!” shouted Professor McGonagall.

Lucian winked at Ursula. She grinned back, having just managed to retain control of the Quaffle during the near collision with Dennis and then passed to Adrian.

“Sorry Professor — she’s good looking and he’s a fool, that’s all I’m saying — Pucey to Flint — Flint scores! TWENTY-ZERO TO SLYTHERIN!”

Ravenclaw bounced back, but Slytherin remained a goal or two ahead at all times. The plays they had practiced only worked half the time, particularly after Roger Davies called a quick timeout to instruct his team. It was becoming imperative that Draco catch the Snitch soon, and before Cho Chang did.

“Davies scores! Seventy-eighty to Slytherin! Pucey has the Quaffle — but what’s this? Chang has seen the Snitch! Yes, she’s definitely seen it!”

Flint growled and signalled to Draco, then to the beaters, who took the hint without being told. Peregrine practically clubbed Jack in the face as he swung his bat, connecting it to one of the Bludgers with a crack. The Bludger nicked Cho in the shoulder, pushing her just slightly off course. Draco’s Nimbus Two Thousand and One outstripped her Comet 260.

“Malfoy speeds up — the chasers seem to have forgotten the rest of the game — second Bludger from Bole — Malfoy dodges — Chang does too — they might collide if they’re not careful — the Snitch is headed straight for the Hufflepuffs in the stands — who’s going to get there first?”

Ursula slowed her broom. Lee was right; the rest of the game was forgotten. Adrian sat on his broom, the Quaffle in his hand, as they willed Draco onwards. Only the seekers and the beaters kept at it — Jack’s nose was broken, just like Dennis’s, and a bruise was darkening on Peregrine’s eye.

“Chang — no Malfoy — no, Chang — and Malfoy has the Snitch! DRACO MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH! ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS TO SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN WINS! TWO HUNDRED THIRTY TO SEVENTY!”

The raucous cheers from one quarter of the stands outmatched the disappointed groans and boos from the rest of the Houses. The Slytherin team streaked toward the ground as the pitch was flooded in celebration. Ursula heard Cassius and Lilian shouting in victory, saw gold change hands as she cashed in her winning bets, and then she was mobbed by fellow celebrating Slytherins.

Ursula wasn’t quite sure how it happened. One moment, everyone was jumping up and down and celebrating, and the next she and Lucian were kissing.

The cheering thundered around them, seemingly incensed by their kiss. Her arms were thrown around his neck, his hands on her waist. Lucian pulled back after a few moments and rushed out, “DoyouwanttogotoHogsmeadewithmetomorrow?”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula, and then she kissed him again.


	49. Wreaths of Silver

Ursula’s date with Lucian was phenomenal. There was none of the awkwardness of her first date with Adrian or the awfulness of her only date with Edward. They went to the Leaky Cauldron — Ursula had had enough of Madam Puddifoot’s for the time being — and Lucian was a perfect gentleman.

All the flirting that Lucian and Ursula had been doing up to this point didn’t stop once they were officially dating, just now it tended to be punctuated by a kiss. They spent more time together as well, though it was mostly spent studying or doing homework. Ursula was taking ten OWLs, and it was imperative she keep up with her homework for all of them. She had agreed to start Gemma’s studying regime after winter break. Lucian was in half as many NEWT classes, which often left him finished with his homework long before she was done with hers. He didn’t mind, however, as he kept her company or brought her flowers or something he had swiped from dessert when it got late.

Ursula wasn’t the only one with a bit of a romance. Lilian and Philip had a far less romantic approach to studying together: complete silence. But after an hour or so of this, Lilian inevitably got antsy and resorted to coming up with fun study games to get Philip out of his shell. The games worked, and Lilian blushed for the rest of the evening after Philip gave her a tentative peck on the cheek after one such game.

Vanessa, also, had dropped enough hints around Peter Parkinson that he had finally asked her on a date to Hogsmeade. Ursula thought him to be dull as paint and too traditional for her tastes, but she would never tell Vanessa that, and she was happy for her friend.

It was one such evening that Ursula was studying with Lucian — his arm was around her shoulders while they sat together on a couch in the Slytherin common room and she touched up her Arithmancy homework — that she nearly forgot about the League of Laurels meeting that was supposed to start any minute. Ursula leapt up hastily.

“Where are you going?” asked Lucian, confused, as she gathered her homework and deposited it in her dorm.

“Oh, er,” said Ursula. The League of Laurels was still just her and a few close friends. But she  _ had  _ wanted to invite more students… “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

Bemused, Lucian followed her out of the common room and down to Dungeon Six. Cassius and the others were already there when they arrived.

“There you are,” said Cassius. “We were waiting for you.”

“Sorry,” said Ursula. “I nearly forgot.”

“What is this?” asked Lucian.

“Er, Lucian… welcome to the League of Laurels,” said Ursula. “It’s a… it’s sort of a dueling club that I started a few months ago. So far, it’s just been the six of us.”

“But you  _ did  _ say it was time to invite some new members!” piped up Lilian.

“That I did,” conceded Ursula. She turned to Lucian, who was still gaping at the room around him. “What do you think?”

“Brilliant,” he said, eyes wide. “Absolutely brilliant. Can I join?”

“She’ll make you sign a contract,” said Adrian. Lucian laughed.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, smiling at his girlfriend.

Ursula did, in fact, make him sign a contract that she then added to a book with all of the other contracts. Right now, they were just for proof, but she had a feeling they might come in handy later.

The next day, Ursula visited several prospective members to tell them about the League of Laurels, including Daria and Sophie, Philip, Edward, and Alexander, Peregrine and Terence, Aurelia Warrington and Guinevere Derrick, Cressida Selwyn, and Lewis Burke. They all agreed, intrigued and excited by the idea, and the next meeting of the League of Laurels was triple that of the first.

“Every week, we focus on a different set of spells,” explained Ursula. “Usually the curse and counter-curse. This week, we’re working on the Stunning Spell and the Reviving Spell.”

Everyone split into pairs and began to practice. Ursula felt her heart swell as she looked around the room at all of the students cheerfully practicing the spell. She was so distracted that she almost missed Cassius attempting to stun her.  _ Almost _ .

“Nice try,” said Ursula, deflecting the spell. “My turn.”

Before the meeting ended, Ursula reminded everyone that the League of Laurels was to be kept a secret, from the teachers and their fellow students. Not because she was worried about breaking any rules — she had done her research when forming the league —but because she didn’t want to be forced to let anyone else in.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.

“I’m so excited that we’re hosting the Christmas party this year!” said Vanessa. “William is working hard at his Ministry job, but he’s promised to take time off over the holidays, and Mother has been planning this party since Halloween. You’ll all come, won’t you?”

“Lachlan’s going, and so am I,” said Adrian. “He’s been too busy to hang out much with William, and I think their rivalry from school hasn’t gone away even now that they’re adults.”

“You’ll come, won’t you?” said Vanessa, turning to Ursula.

“Of course,” said Ursula. “I’m looking forward to it. But I need someone to make sure Edward stays away from me. I wouldn’t want to resort to something unladylike to get rid of him.”

“I can do that,” volunteered Cassius. “I never know what to do at these ridiculous parties anyway.” Noticing Vanessa’s expression, he added, “I’m actually looking forward to yours, however.”

“Is Lucian coming?” asked Adrian. Ursula nodded.

“How does it all work, you know, with Lucian and Hadrian and everything?” asked Cassius, lowering his voice a little.

“Well, it’s not guaranteed that Hadrian and I will get married —”

“ _ Yet _ ,” interjected Vanessa. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Nor does my relationship with Lucian have any bearing on that subject either,” she finished. “I hate talking about it, I hate being asked about it, and I especially hate that so many people know.”

“Fine, fine, we’ll stop teasing you about it,” said Cassius. “ _ For now _ .”

“I’ll take it,” said Ursula. “Now, let’s get to Care of Magical Creatures.”

They tramped through the snow towards Hagrid’s hut, which billowed steam and looked like a little gingerbread house under all the snow. The fifth years stood clustered together, noses pink and chapped from wind. Ursula heard a huffing and puffing, then a curse or two, and then Lilian finally arrived.

“There you are,” said Ursula. “We missed you at lunch.”

“I’m just so excited about my Muggle Studies project,” said Lilian. “I just had to get started. What’d you talk about in my absence?”

“Our Christmas plans, mostly,” answered Ursula. “What are yours?”

“Mum’s having her brother and sister and their families over,” said Lilian. “I’m excited to see my cousins, and I love Christmas baking. Are your dads coming over?”

Ursula shook her head.

“No, they’re spending the holidays with Tony’s family this year,” said Ursula. “I’m visiting Tonks, though, and I can’t wait.”

“Right yeh lot!” called Hagrid, coming out of his hut in a thick, woolly coat. “Now, I knew they’re a bit easy, but I thought yeh lot could use somethin’ ter warm yeh up, so today we’re goin’ over Fire Dwelling Salamanders again. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Brilliant,” muttered Adrian, shivering. “That sounds bloody brilliant.”

To everyone’s delight, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

“We can do our Christmas shopping!” said Lilian excitedly.

“We should all go together!” said Vanessa.

“Ooh, we could do that group date I’ve been pestering you both about,” said Lilian.

“Hmm,” said Ursula. “Lucian…”  _ Lucian can’t stand Peter, Lucian would rather go just the two of us, Lucian is smiling at me from across the common room right now _ . “…can be easily convinced,” she finished, smiling back at him. “You two deal with your boyfriends, I’ll deal with mine.”

“Deal,” said Lilian.

Philip was, unsurprisingly, the easiest to convince.

“Ok,” he said quietly, when Lilian asked him. “It’ll be fun.”

“That’s the spirit!” said Lilian cheerily, kissing him on the cheek.

Lucian was a bit more apprehensive about it. Ursula asked him that afternoon when they were studying together in the library. She was finishing Transfiguration homework while he touched up a Charms essay.

“I thought  _ we _ could spend the day together,” said Lucian, taking Ursula’s free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Ursula smiled, rolled her eyes, and pulled her hand away.

“Lilian has been pestering me about this for weeks,” said Ursula. “It’s just one day. You can go down in the morning with your friends, then we’ll meet in the Three Broomsticks for lunch, and then you and I can spend the afternoon together. Please? For me?”

“Fine,” said Lucian, smiling at her. “For you. I’ll even try to be nice to Parkinson.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula.

Speaking of Peter Parkinson, it took Vanessa up until the eve of the Hogsmeade trip to convince her boyfriend to come. She was nearly in tears at lunch on Friday over the struggle.

“He just doesn’t want to come!” she lamented, throwing her hands up in exasperation as they headed to Herbology.

“Do you want us to talk some sense into him?” said Cassius, cracking his knuckles meaningfully, despite them all knowing he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“No, no,” said Vanessa. “It won’t help. He said —” But she broke off suddenly, cheeks coloring.

“What did he say?” asked Lilian.

“Oh, nothing,” said Vanessa, but she looked guilty. “He just… isn’t the biggest fan of your boyfriends.”

“Then he should know the feeling is mutual,” said Ursula. “Lucian promised to be nice, and if he can do it, so can Peter.”

“Is that the only reason he won’t come?” asked Lilian.

“He’s just not very romantic,” said Vanessa. She sighed. “I’ll keep trying. Maybe he’ll have a change of heart before tomorrow…”

Ursula pursed her lips as she followed Vanessa into Greenhouse Three. She wasn’t about to let some stuck up boy ruin Vanessa’s day. While Vanessa and Adrian climbed the stairs to Divination, and the rest of her friends headed down to the common room, Ursula went to the third floor, intent on cornering Peter before his Charms class.

“Parkinson,” greeted Ursula coolly, strolling right past him so he was forced to turn and follow. “May I have a word?”

“Certainly, Black,” said Peter. “Will it take long?”

“It doesn’t have to,” said Ursula. They stopped a few doors down.

“What is this about?” asked Peter, crossing his arms.

“Vanessa,” said Ursula. “She wants to have a group date in Hogsmeade tomorrow and you’re going to agree.”

Peter bristled.

“I can’t think why —”

“Because she is your girlfriend and she wants you to,” said Ursula sternly. “And because you ditched her halfway through the last Hogsmeade visit, you owe her this one.”

“How am I supposed to be excited about spending time with people I don’t like?” said Peter.

“By realizing that you’re making your girlfriend,  _ who you do like _ , happy,” said Ursula. “For the record, Lucian doesn’t like you either. But he agreed to come and to be civil. Does that make him a better boyfriend?”

There. That had done it. Peter hated Lucian, so the comparison did the trick.

“Fine,” he spat. “I’ll play nice as long as he does.”

“Excellent,” said Ursula. “Shall I tell Vanessa, or will you?”

Peter growled, face red, and stalked away. Lucian entered the Charms corridor just then, and slung his arm over Ursula’s shoulder with a bemused smile.

“What was that about?” asked Lucian, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’m arranging an early Christmas present for Vanessa,” Ursula replied. “I got Peter to come tomorrow.”

Lucian groaned.

“Is it bad a part of me hoped he wouldn’t come?” he said.

“No,” said Ursula. She gave him a quick kiss. “Go, you don’t want to be late for Charms.”

Vanessa was ecstatic that Peter finally agreed to go when she asked him again at dinner. Ursula even saw his face soften a little at how happy it made her, though any trace of a smile was gone when Lucian came over to see Ursula. The next day, a fresh layer of fluffy snow blanketed the castle, and the day was clear and bright at breakfast, the light dazzling off the snow.

“What to wear, what to wear, what to wear…” said Vanessa, rifling through her closet while Ursula and Lilian, fully dressed and ready to go, waited for her.

“Something warm,” said Ursula for the third time. “I thought you had an outfit all picked out?”

“Yes, but then it snowed,” said Vanessa.

“And that changes things?” said Lilian.

“Of course! My coat is white, so my other clothes should match, but I can’t decide if I want to wear Christmas colors —”

“Vanessa dear, everything goes with white,” said Lilian. “And it’s simply too cold for a skirt. What’s wrong with Christmas colors? I went Christmas themed.” She held out her arms to show off her reindeer-bedecked sweater. Vanessa gave her a pained look.

“Look, you’re going to wear the hat, right?” said Ursula. She had bought the three of them matching floppy red hats, with furry white brims and a large white puffball on the end. They were very festive, and she and Lilian were already wearing theirs. Like Lilian, she was also wearing a Christmas sweater, though hers was more subdued. The dark red sweater was patterned with holly.

“Yes,” said Vanessa.

“Then pick something to match,” said Ursula. “And please, in the name of Merlin, pick something before lunch.”

“Okay, okay,” said Vanessa, and after a moment more of deliberation she grabbed a green sweater and grey pants and headed to the bathroom to change. Finally they were ready, and the three girls headed jovially out of the freezing dungeons and then to Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

“Where to first, ladies?” said Lilian. “I want to visit Dervish & Banges after Honeydukes.”

“I want to go to Gladrags Wizardwear,” said Ursula, “and Zonko’s, for my cousins.”

“Let’s start there,” said Vanessa. “I’ve done all my shopping except for Honeydukes, so we can do your errands first.”

Gladrags Wizardwear was warm and cozy, much like the sweaters they sold for the winter weather. Lilian picked out a sweater for Alice and some mittens for Miles, while Ursula went in search of gifts for Aunt Andromeda and Uncle Ted. She finally found a color-changing scarf for her aunt and three pairs of fun socks for her uncle.

The next place they went was Dervish & Banges, half antique store and half new equipment. There Lilian did most of her shopping while Ursula found an enchanted weathervane for her uncle and some antique beast memorabilia for Laurie and Newt.

“I ordered a cookbook for my aunt,” explained Ursula to Lilian while she paid. “And I had my dad send me my grandma’s gift from America.”

“Have you got them a gift yet?” asked Lilian. “Your dads?”

Ursula nodded.

“Sent Agatha down to the post office with them last week,” she said.

“Are we ready to go to Honeydukes yet?” asked Vanessa. “It’s nearly lunchtime.”

“Just about,” said Ursula. “I just need to pop into Zonko’s, remember?”

Zonko’s Joke Shop was noisy and crowded, with bangs and whistles from the various products cutting through the hum of students. Ursula promised to be quick as she had a rough idea of what she was looking for.

“Hey there Black!” said Fred, grinning as he cut through the crowd. “Happy Christmas.”

“Whatcha doing here?” asked George.

“Trying to find a gift for my cousin,” said Ursula. “Ah, here we go. Merry Christmas boys!”

She waved as they disappeared, then picked up the alarm clock she had been looking for. Tonks was happy working as an Auror, but one of her letters cheerfully informed Ursula that she practically tumbled out of bed every morning and had to rush to get ready before work. Ursula had decided to buy her an alarm clock, but she wanted a fun, unusual one to match her cousin’s personality. She found one in Zonko’s that was a delightful jack-in-the-box with a different greeting each day.

Finally the three girls were ready to go to Honeydukes, which was so packed with students that the crowd nearly spilled into the street. A notice pasted inside the sweetshop door said:

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

_ Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall. _

_ Merry Christmas! _

Ursula shivered. She hated the Dementors. She continued inside, where she ended up quite laden down with various gifts — honey colored toffees and exploding bonbons for Tonks, Fizzing Whizbees for Cassius, etc. — and a little something for herself, of course.

“It’s nearly noon,” said Lilian breathlessly. “We’d better get to the Three Broomsticks before our boyfriends tear each other apart.”

“Well, ours at least,” agreed Ursula. “I doubt Philip has a reason to get involved.”

Their boyfriends were indeed waiting for them in the Three Broomsticks, sitting in very uncomfortable silence around a table. Lucian spotted them coming through the door first, and rushed over to greet Ursula, taking her bags from her.

“Thank Merlin you’re here,” he said, leading her back to the table. “Philip was here first, and then I showed up, and for the last five minutes Peter and I have just been glaring at each other in silence.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Ursula. She sat down between Lucian and Peter, then Vanessa sat on Peter’s other side, and Lilian sat between Philip and Lucian. Now that his girlfriend was here, Peter visibly relaxed and was able to take his eyes off of Lucian and stop glaring. They all ordered, and the girls discussed their shopping trip in a frenzy to break the awkward silence.

“So,” said Vanessa, “is everyone looking forward to Christmas?”

They all nodded.

“I’m excited to see my family,” said Ursula. “Philip, what are your plans?”

“I’m excited to see you,” muttered Lucian under his breath. Ursula elbowed him.

“You’re a terrible flirt,” she whispered back, then leaned forward to hear what Philip was saying about visiting his grandmother.

“Have you started studying for your OWLs yet, then?” said Lucian, as the conversation began to shift away from Christmas plans. He meant it as a joke, but Philip nodded quite seriously.

“Of course,” he said. “They’re very important, after all.”

“I told Gemma that I’d start in January,” said Ursula.

“Do you know which classes you’ll drop?” asked Vanessa. “I’m never taking History of Magic again.”

“Herbology, maybe,” said Philip. “I’m rubbish with plants. Well, plants and animals both. That’s why I didn’t take Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Besides Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures is my favorite,” said Ursula.

“That’s because it’s in your blood,” teased Lilian. Lucian gave Ursula a funny look but didn’t say anything.

“What’s it like?” said Vanessa, looking between Peter and Lucian. “Being between your OWLs and NEWTs, I mean.”

“For me it’s relaxing,” said Philip. “I don’t have to be around people stressing out for a year. It’s nice.”

“I didn’t study as much as I should have on my OWLs,” said Lucian. “I took nine, and I failed two of them. I almost failed Potions, if you can believe it —”

“We can,” said Peter under his breath. Lucian ignored him.

“— but I knew Snape would kill me if I did, so I passed with an Acceptable,” he finished.

“You deserve better,” said Peter quietly to Ursula.

“Define better,” she hissed back.

“So does Vanessa,” said Lucian at full volume, glaring at Peter from across the table.

“What about you, Lilian?” said Vanessa, her voice higher than normal. “Er — what NEWT classes do you think you’ll take?”

“I’m going to drop Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures for sure,” said Lilian. “Sorry Ursula, just not my thing.”

“I think I might be the only person who continues to NEWT level in that class,” said Ursula. “I wouldn’t mind, honestly.”

“And I’m going to continue with Muggle Studies,” said Lilian. “I just adore it.”

Peter snorted. Lilian scowled at him. But Peter couldn’t help himself.

“Of course you do,” he sneered. “Which of your parents was the mudblood?”

“How dare —” began Lilian, and for a second Ursula thought she might curse Peter, but then Philip put a hand on her arm.

“I think there are a myriad of things more important than blood purity,” said Philip coolly. “After all, we’re all Slytherins here at Hogwarts, aren’t we?”

“Game, set, and match to Philip Carlyle,” muttered Lucian. Ursula breathed a sigh of relief.

In the angry silence that followed, Peter’s glare was matched with an equally fierce one from Philip. In a surprising turn of events, it was Lucian who was no longer part of the fight.

“Quidditch,” said Ursula suddenly, breaking the extremely tense silence. “That’s something we can all talk about. Quidditch.”

“My dad works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” said Lucian. “He says the Quidditch World Cup is going to be held in Dartmoor this summer.”

“How fascinating,” said Lilian, and though her calm tone was forced, she really did mean it. Ten minutes later, the couples went their separate ways as they simply couldn’t take the awkwardness any more.

“Did I do well?” said Lucian, walking with Ursula through the snow back to the castle.

“Better than I expected,” teased Ursula.

“Hey!”

Ursula grinned and gave Lucian a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” she said. “That went about as well as I expected.”

“So,” said Lucian, “what did you get me for Christmas?”

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait and see,” said Ursula coyly. “And it’s not in any of my bags, so stop snooping.”

Lucian hmphed and stopped looking.

“I’ll see you tonight at the meeting, yeah?” said Lucian as they reached the castle.

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “But before you go —”

She set her shopping bags down and kissed Lucian, running her fingers through his short hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed back. Unfortunately, they were interrupted by a long whistle.

“Jealous, Weasley?” said Lucian, letting go of Ursula as Fred and George walked past, the former whistling. “Now,” he said when they were gone. “Where were we…”

When Ursula finally returned to the Slytherin common room, she found Cassius waiting for her, oddly excited.

“Can you come to Dungeon Six tonight before everyone else gets there for the League of Laurels?” he asked, as soon as she walked in, still carrying her purchases.

“Er, sure,” said Ursula. “Why?”

“You’ll see!” said Cassius, trying to be mysterious.

“And you can’t just tell me now?”

“Just because suspense is your thing doesn’t mean I can’t use it too,” said Cassius. “You’ll be there early?”

“Of course,” said Ursula. “But just for you.”

“That’s my girl!”

Shaking her head at her friend’s antics, Ursula unpacked her gifts, wrapped what needed to be wrapped, and stowed everything away in her trunk when she was finished. Gemma was busy studying in the library, so Ursula had some time to herself before dinner. Afterwards, as all the Slytherins returned to the freezing dungeons, Cassius pulled Ursula aside.

“Hey — ow —”

“You said you’d come early, remember?” he said, leading the way into the dungeon.

“I didn’t think you meant this early,” said Ursula. Looking at Dungeon Six, it looked exactly the same as always, except a House Elf had been around to decorate. “Why did you want me to come early?”

“I wanted to give you your Christmas present now,” said Cassius, hurrying to the back table where a small flat red box waited.

“Christmas is still two weeks away,” said Ursula. “And we’ll see each other. I didn’t bring your present with me —”

“I just wanted to give it to you during our last League of Laurels meeting before the holidays,” Cassius explained. “It felt right.”

“Why, what did you —” Ursula gasped as Cassius opened the box. “Oh, Cassius, it’s gorgeous!”

Inside the box on a plush velvet blue cushion sat a delicate silver hair clip shaped like a wreath of laurels.

“Wow,” breathed Ursula.

“I thought you’d like it,” said Cassius with his signature beaming smile. “Now you see why I wanted to give it to you early?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ursula. “This is beautiful, Cass, thank you.”

“Merry Christmas Ursula,” said Cassius, hugging her.

“Merry Christmas Cass,” she replied.


	50. Christmas with the Tonks's

“I have a few errands to run today,” said Ursula. It was a few days before Christmas, and as always, she announced the day’s business at breakfast. “I have gifts to pick up and the like.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” asked Narcissa. Ursula shook her head.

“No, I can manage with Dimsey,” said Ursula.

“Very well. Don’t forget to pick up your dress for the ball from Twilfitt & Tattings while you’re out,” replied Narcissa. Ursula nodded.

When breakfast was over, she stopped by Corvus Manor to meet Dimsey and get the list of places she needed to go. She really did have errands to run, yes, but not nearly all the ones she’d insinuated. Ursula had Dimsey take her to Diagon Alley, which looked quaint and welcoming under all the snow, so she could pick up her dress, and then onto the jeweler’s to pick up Vanessa’s gift, followed by a quick stop at a Muggle bookshop — she had Dimsey wait outside, cleverly hidden by a newspaper stand — and then she had him take her to her real destination.

“Ursula!”

Tonks threw open the door to her flat and hugged her cousin. Her apartment was two stories up in a Muggle neighborhood, so Ursula had Dimsey Apparate her directly outside the door and then told him to come back in two hours. The rest of Ursula’s errands had been an excuse for this secret visit.

“Come in, come in!” said Tonks, nearly tripping through her own doorway as she led Ursula inside.

Tonks’s apartment was small but absolutely bursting with color and decoration. Succulents crowded on the windowsill, old newspapers and coffee cups were strewn about, and a Christmas tree much too large for the room it was in twinkled in the corner. Tonks waved her wand and the newspapers, cups, and other miscellaneous knicknacks swept themselves off of the table in the living room and organized wherever they were supposed to be.

“I’ve missed you,” said Ursula, taking a seat.

“I’ve missed you too! You have to tell me all about Hogwarts,” said Tonks. “Tea?”

Ursula nodded, and Tonks flicked her wand at the stove. The kettle filled with water, and before long it began to whistle.

“Hello Orion,” cooed Ursula, giving Betelguese’s son an affectionate scratch behind the ears. He wound around her legs, his bushy white fur making him look like a puffy cloud. Orion jumped up on her lap and stared up at her with big blue eyes, purring as she pet him.

“This is OWL year for you, right?” said Tonks, when their steaming mugs of tea were ready. “I remember my OWLs. I was terrified I’d fail everything. How’s it going for you?”

“It’s going well,” said Ursula, pouring sugar into her tea. “With all the homework we’ve been getting plus Quidditch practice, it’s hard to find extra time to study, but I’m managing.”

“Good,” said Tonks. “You’re still into magical creatures and transfiguration, right?”

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Ursula, standing up. She transformed into her Animagus and Tonks laughed and clapped her hands appreciatively.

“You did it! I can’t believe I forgot!” said Tonks, as Ursula changed back. “I remember Kingsley showing me the article about you. I’m so proud.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula. “Professor McGonagall was thrilled.”

“I bet she was,” said Tonks. “McGonagall always scared me. Still does, as a matter of fact.”

“How’s your Auror training going?”

After achieving top grades, Auror candidates spent three years training in a dozen categories before they could test to become a full Auror. Tonks was halfway through her third year, studying under Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, and in June she would take her tests. The program was highly prestigious and individualized, since very few people were accepted every year. Tonks was the only person from her graduating class to be accepted.

“Terrific,” said Tonks. “I don’t have to work at all at Concealment & Disguise, which leaves me with more time to study for Stealth & Tracking. You know how clumsy I am.”

“Indeed,” said Ursula. “What is Alastor Moody like?”

“Mad-Eye’s great,” said Tonks. “Lots of people think he’s gruff and, well, a little mad, but I think he’s the best mentor.”

“I’ve only ever met him when he and some of the other Aurors searched Corvus Manor over the summer,” said Ursula.

“An utter waste of time, if you ask me,” said Tonks. “Sirius Black is more likely to visit mum and dad’s house than yours, and their house hasn’t been searched.”

“Do you think he really did it?”

Ursula knew it was a ridiculous question, but she felt like she needed to ask it, and Tonks was the perfect person to ask.

“What makes you say that?” Tonks asked, surprised. Ursula shrugged.

“He wasn’t a Death Eater,” said Ursula. “Whatever the Daily Prophet says, you know he wasn’t. It’s an absurd question, I know, but…”

“It’s okay to wonder,” said Tonks. “I was seven when it happened, and I can still remember how shocked mum and dad were, especially since he’d come to see us not long before. It’s weird seeing the wanted posters because that’s not how I remember him at all.”

“Let’s change the subject,” said Ursula. “It is Christmas, after all.”

“Tell me about your boyfriend,” said Tonks, her eyes glinting mischievously. “What was his name again?”

“Lucian,” said Ursula. “Lucian Bole.”

“Is his older brother Magnus Bole?” said Tonks. “I seem to recall a brawny boy who never liked me very much.”

“Thankfully, the younger son is much nicer,” said Ursula.

“I bet he is,” teased Tonks. Ursula rolled her eyes, grinning despite herself.

“He is a sixth year and a beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team,” said Ursula. “He’s charming, attractive, and I like spending time with him. He’s very sweet.”

“Is he as devoted to school as you are?” said Tonks.

“He’s certainly not lazy,” said Ursula, before conceding, “but no, he’s not as devoted to schoolwork as I am.”

“Well I’m happy for you,” said Tonks. “What’d you get him for Christmas?”

“His birthday is in early January, so I went ahead and got him a watch,” said Ursula. “I also got him a jersey signed by Brevis Birch, the captain for the Tutshill Tornados. He’s Lucian’s idol.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“It took about a month to work out, but Brevis Birch is a distant relation of the Blishwick family,” Ursula answered. “I used some old connections and a bit of gold, and the jersey was sent to Corvus Manor last week.”

“He’d better get you a fantastic gift after all that work you went to,” said Tonks.

“It wasn’t that hard, honestly,” said Ursula. “I’ll tell you all about it on Boxing Day when I come to visit, yeah? Now, I want to hear more about your Auror training before Dimsey comes back. Tell me about the other Aurors you work with.”

Ursula spent the rest of the visit peppering Tonks with questions about her training while Tonks in turn asked about different aspects of Hogwarts that she missed. Far too soon, Dimsey returned, and Ursula bid Tonks — and Orion — goodbye.

“Successful shopping trip?” asked Narcissa when Ursula returned home, catching her on the stairs.

“Oh, very,” said Ursula, tapping her nails on the banister. “I just want to send Agatha off with a few gifts before dinner.”

“How does your dress look?” asked Narcissa.

“Gorgeous,” said Ursula. “Just beautiful.”

Indeed it was. In fact, those were the first words out of Lucian’s mouth when he saw her at the Christmas Eve ball two days later at Shafiq Manor, accompanied by a long, appreciative whistle. Ursula blushed, smiling demurely as she crossed the ballroom to meet him. Her  [ dress  ](https://d111vui60acwyt.cloudfront.net/product_photos/69665160/file_5ba451686f_original.jpg) was long, deep burgundy, and velvety, and she couldn’t wait to twirl around on the dance floor in it. Tonight she wore her mother’s pearls and a second, slightly longer strand as well.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Lucian, greeting her with a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you,” said Ursula with a slight giggle. “You look rather handsome yourself.”

“I’ve missed you this last week,” said Lucian. “Have you missed me?”

“Well…” said Ursula, pretending to consider. Lucian scowled. “Yes, of course I’ve missed you.”

“Good. Care to dance?”

Ursula accepted Lucian’s hand and he led her onto the dance floor, where they waltzed slowly in time with the music. Her skirt swished and twirled just as she had hoped. The dance gave Ursula a chance to admire the ballroom at Shafiq Manor. The room was opulent, with golden chandeliers twinkling above and magical snow drifting down from the high ceiling, disappearing before it ever touched their heads. It was a white tie affair, as formal as can be, and everyone at the party was dressed accordingly. Black jacketed waiters carried silver trays across the ballroom, delivering drinks and taking away empty glasses.

Cassius gave Ursula a thumbs up over Cressida Selwyn’s shoulder, nodding subtly to Edward, who had been trapped in a conversation with Horace Slughorn, an elderly wizard who could tell a story that went on for years. Ursula grinned back at him.

“Who are you smiling at?” asked Lucian.

“Cassius,” said Ursula. “He promised to keep Edward Shafiq away from me.”

Lucian frowned.

“You could’ve asked me to do that,” he said.

“Cassius volunteered,” said Ursula. “Besides, it was mostly a joke anyway.”

“But as your boyfriend, it’s my job to protect you,” insisted Lucian. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Relax, it’s not that big of a deal,” she said. “Making sure I don’t have to talk to someone who annoys me isn’t really protecting me, either.”

“Whatever,” said Lucian. “But next time, ask me, okay?”

“Sure,” said Ursula lightly.

The dance ended, and while Lucian went to get drinks, Ursula headed over to  [ Vanessa  ](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1yfZqatfvK1RjSszhq6AcGFXan/Beading-cap-sleeves-evening-dress-silver-grey-Evening-gown-elegant-prom-dress-crystal-beaded-belt-formal.jpg) and  [ Gemma ](https://img.veaul.com/product/0475ab7ddeb0bfdaef44b5d360126003/evening-dress-2016-simple-deep-v-neck-ruffled-dark-green-satin-long-formal-dress-with-sash-800x800.jpg) . The former’s boyfriend was off chatting with Jacob some ways away, to Ursula’s private relief.

“Your family has outdone yourselves, Vanessa,” said Ursula. “This party is marvelous. I particularly like the snow.”

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” agreed Vanessa. “It was all mother’s idea. Speaking of gorgeous, your dress is simply divine.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “The two of you look simply splendid. Vanessa, I love the sleeves on your dress and the skirt looks like liquid silver, and Gemma, that green really brings out your eyes.”

“I just love it,” said Gemma, twirling a little to show off her dress.

“How has your holiday been?” asked Ursula.

“Alright,” said Gemma. “We’re planning to visit my uncle — my father’s brother — and his family in a few days. Both boys positively drive me up the wall. In the meantime, we visited my mother’s side of the family.”

“Is it true that we are to expect an engagement between them?” asked Ursula, nodding towards the dance floor. She was referring to Cordelia Avery, Gemma’s cousin in seventh year, and Vanessa’s brother William, who were chatting with one another as they danced, seemingly enjoying each other’s company.

“Yes, mother and father certainly think so and they’re quite a good match,” said Vanessa. “It’ll be at least a year, however. William is fresh out of school and isn’t quite ready for marriage yet, and Cordelia doesn’t want to marry straight away when she graduates. I’d say the summer after next, they’ll be married.”

“Hello ladies,” said Hadrian Rowle, appearing as if out of nowhere. “Ursula. May I trouble you for a dance?”

“It’s no trouble at all,” said Ursula, accepting the hand he offered her. She looked back over her shoulder at her friends only to see Vanessa wink suggestively and Gemma give her a thumbs up. She rolled her eyes.

“How’s Hogwarts?” said Hadrian. “I heard you were chosen as a prefect, correct?”

“Yes, I was,” said Ursula.

“And I believe congratulations are in order for becoming an Animagus,” he continued, spinning her around smoothly.

“Do you read  _ Transfiguration Today _ ?”

“Not me, no, but a friend of mine showed me the article,” said Hadrian. “It is very impressive. What else have you been up to since we last spoke?”

Ursula told him about Quidditch, and about OWL year, and about her terrible date with Edward. In return, she asked Hadrian about Durmstrang, and he told her about Quidditch and his classes and swimming in a freezing lake. He had just been recounting a rather embarrassing story of how he and a few friends ended up chasing a reindeer across the grounds when someone coughed behind them.

“Ah, Lucian, there you are,” said Ursula, leading Hadrian out of the way of the other dancers. Lucian stood with a drink in each hand, jaw set in a scowl. “Hadrian, this is Lucian, Lucian, this is Hadrian.”

“I’m familiar,” said Lucian coldly, handing her a drink. “Didn’t know you were such close friends with my  _ girlfriend _ , Rowle.”

“We were just catching up,” said Ursula, slightly breathless from the dancing. “We only see each other a few times a year, after all.”

“Of course,” said Lucian. “As long as that’s all it was.”

Ursula was taken aback.

“What makes you say that?” she said.

“Listen, Lucian, right? We’re just friends,” said Hadrian calmly. “Just because everyone thinks we should —”

“So you admit that’s what this is all about,” said Lucian.

“Lucian, that’s not —” began Ursula.

“It’s a ridiculous thing to say, that’s what it is,” said Hadrian angrily.

“Hadrian —”

“Stop flirting with my girlfriend if you know what’s best for you,” snarled Lucian.

“Oh yeah?” challenged Hadrian, crossing his arms. Truth be told, Ursula didn’t like Lucian’s chances were he to attempt to fight Hadrian. “If you’re so insecure that you can’t let her talk to other guys, then that’s your problem, not hers.”

“You trying to steal my girlfriend is the problem!”

“Hey!”

Finally, Ursula got their attention. Both were red-face and angry, glaring daggers at one another. Ursula crossed her arms and did her best to maintain composure as she said, quietly so only they could hear, “Let me make one thing clear. I am not a prize to be won. I would like everyone to stop talking about who I should marry, most of all the two of you, and I ask that you both stop blowing things out of proportion. I do not need protection, I do not need possessiveness, and most of all I  _ do not need you accusing me of flirting, Lucian _ . Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ursula,” they both mumbled.

“I expect the two of you to recover from your little spat and to apologize, both to me and to each other,” continued Ursula. “Until you can, I will be spending my evening with people who won’t ruin it with wild accusations.”

She marched off, depositing her glass onto a waiter’s tray. Ursula moved through the party, looking for someone to talk to and hopefully dance with. She caught Lewis Burke’s eye, and he excused himself from his friend Gregory to come see her.

“Having a rough night?” he said.

“I wasn’t expecting one, that’s all,” replied Ursula. “Mind if we dance while we talk?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Lewis. “What dance is this? I should sign your dance card.”

“Very funny,” said Ursula. “It’s just a two step, and you know it.” They joined in, and Ursula added, “Lucian better not come over here and confront you about this.”

“So that’s what happened,” said Lewis. “Who were you dancing with?”

“Hadrian.”

“Ah.”

“He’s just overprotective,” said Ursula. “I don’t mind if it’s over something reasonable, but he was way over the line this time.”

“I’m sure he’ll learn his lesson,” said Lewis, “and I doubt it’ll take him long. He only came to the party to see you.”

“Thanks for letting me vent,” said Ursula.

“Anytime.”

“It seems your mother may have to strike Cordelia Avery from your list,” teased Ursula.

“I see you’re just as up to date with the gossip chain as Cressida is,” said Lewis. “Poor mother. Whatever shall she do.”

“Plan your sister’s wedding, I suspect,” said Ursula. “Is it true she’s engaged to Reginald Fawley?”

Lewis was astonished.

“Blimey, you are up to date! They haven’t even announced it yet,” said Lewis. “They’re going to wait until New Year’s to tell everyone. How did you know?”

Ursula shrugged.

“They’ve danced together three times, and Reginald keeps his hand on her back when they talk to other people,” she said. “Besides, he’s got this eager look on his face and she won’t stop giggling.”

“Don’t tell anyone until they put the announcement in the Daily Prophet,” said Lewis. “For people like us, it’s a pretty big deal.”

“You can count on me to keep a secret,” said Ursula.

“It’s been a pleasure dancing with you,” said Lewis, “but I see you have at least one gentleman trying to get your attention.”

Ursula bid Lewis goodbye, and started towards Lucian, who was gesturing to her with an apologetic look on his face. She saw Hadrian weaving his way through the crowd towards her and motioned to Lucian that she’d be a moment.

“Hey Ursula,” said Hadrian. “Listen, I’m sorry for how I acted. It wasn’t fair to you and it was rude.”

“Thank you for saying that,” said Ursula. “You’re forgiven. Merry Christmas, Hadrian. I left a Christmas present for you with one of the waiters by the door out front. It’s a little blue box with a gold bow.”

“Wait, before you go, I wanted to give you this —”

Hadrian fumbled with a box in his jacket pocket, finally succeeded in pulling it out, and handed it to Ursula.

“Is it more jewelry?” she teased. He looked sheepish.

“I didn’t know what else to get you,” he admitted.

“I’m kidding, jewelry is a wonderful gift,” said Ursula. “Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what to get you either, so expect to find a watch in that box.”

Hadrian laughed.

“Will do. Now open mine.”

“Why, they are just darling!” said Ursula, admiring the dangling ruby earrings. “I say, your taste in jewelry has gotten better and better.”

“Terrific,” said Hadrian, grinning. “I’m glad you like them. Now, I won’t keep you any longer. Happy Christmas, Ursula.”

Ursula waved goodbye, finally making her way over to Lucian, who was fidgeting by the door.

“Hey,” he said, as soon as she got close to him. “Look, er, I’m really sorry. I was being stupid and jealous, and… I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” said Ursula, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s that?” asked Lucian, pointing to the box in her hand.

“Oh, it’s a gift from —” she recalled their feud just a short while before “— Lewis.”

“Hm, well speaking of gifts, I want to give you mine,” said Lucian. Taking her by the elbow, he steered her out of the ballroom and into the hallway. She requested one of the waiters retrieve her gifts for Lucian while she waited on a bench for her boyfriend to return. Having located her gift, he returned swiftly with an eager grin on his face.

“Open this one first,” said Lucian, handing her a large, rectangular package. Ursula unwrapped it carefully, holding the book up to read the title.

“ _ Charms for the Charming _ ,” she read, grinning at Lucian. “How sweet of you.”

Lucian beamed, his chest puffed out in pride.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said. “Now, open the other one.”

It was a jewelry box, Ursula could tell. She seemed to get a lot of jewelry, but she never tired of it, not least when it came from someone like her boyfriend. Ursula opened it, admiring the emerald bracelet and hair clip combo with a soft smile, letting her gloved fingers trace down the sparkling gemstones.

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”

When she looked up, Lucian was looking at her with an odd expression on his face, his mouth half open as if to ask a question.

“Lucian?” she prompted.

“When Lilian said Care of Magical Creatures is in your blood… was she talking about your father?” asked Lucian finally.

“Ah,” said Ursula. “Yes, she was.”

“Er… will you tell me who it is?”

Ursula looked at him. For a long moment she considered. Then she looked back at the jewelry box he had just given her.

“My dad is Kenneth Scamander.”

“You mean —”

“The grandson of Newt Scamander, yes,” said Ursula.

“Oh,” said Lucian. “Wow.” After a moment, he added, “So, er, you’re definitely a pureblood, then.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Lucian. “It’s cool that your dad is a Scamander. Thanks for telling me.” He was about to lean over and give her a kiss when the waiter Ursula had asked to fetch her gifts returned.

“The gifts, ma’am,” he said. Lucian straightened.

“Are these for me?” he asked.

“Who else?” said Ursula with a giggle. She handed him the watch first. “This one is an early birthday present.”

“Thanks!” said Lucian, grinning widely as he held up the watch to inspect. “What’s in the other box.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out,” said Ursula, handing him the long, flat box containing the signed jersey.

Lucian gasped.

“Bloody hell!”

“Merry Christmas, Lucian,” said Ursula.

~~~

“Happy Christmas, Ursula!”

Andromeda Tonks threw open the door and hugged her niece, leading her inside the warm, cozy house at once. It was December twenty-sixth, two days after the ball, and Ursula was visiting her aunt, uncle, and cousin for afternoon tea and dinner.

“Look who’s here!” said Aunt Andromeda, leading her into the kitchen, where Tonks danced along to the radio playing Muggle Christmas music while she decorated cookies and Uncle Ted read the newspaper, tapping his foot in time to the music.

“Hello, Ursula dear,” said Ted, standing up to greet her with a hug. “Oh, I feel as if it’s been ages. You’ve gotten so tall.”

“You must tell us all about Hogwarts,” said Andromeda.

“Come help me decorate cookies!” said Tonks, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her behind the counter, where a line of gingerbread men waited to be decorated.

While she helped Tonks decorate, Ursula told them all about Hogwarts, classes and Quidditch and her friends, as well as Lucian and the ball. Then she peppered them with questions about how they’d been. Soon the kettle on the stove was whistling and they all sat down with a tray of cookies and cups of tea in the living room.

“I brought gifts,” said Ursula, reaching into her bag for them.

“Socks!” said Ted, pulling out the three fun, colorful pairs she had picked out for him. “My favorite.” He pulled up his pant legs to show off the Christmas socks he was wearing, one of which was decorated with little red and white Santas, the other patterned with tiny Christmas trees. “Ooh, and a magical weathervane. Now this is exciting. Ursula dear, where did you find this?”

“At Dervish & Banges,” said Ursula. “I thought you’d like it.”

“And so I do, my dear, so I do,” said Ted, turning it over in his hands excitedly. “Oh, this is terrific.”

“My turn!” said Tonks, already tearing open her gift. She shrieked when the jack-in-the-box popped out.

“Rise and shine, it’s nearly nine!” said the cute clown.

“It’s an alarm clock,” explained Ursula. “So —”

“It’s hilarious!” said Tonks, closing it and opening it again. “I love it!”

“I think that just leaves me,” said Andromeda, smiling at her daughter. She pulled out the thick scarf Ursula had bought her first, which changed from brown to red to match her outfit when she tried it on. “Oh, how nice. Thank you, Ursula dear.”

Andromeda turned to Ursula’s other gift, for which Ursula had bought a lovely silver picture frame. Andromeda’s breath caught when she beheld the picture inside.

“Oh my…” she said, laying the picture in her lap to stop her hands from trembling.

“Dimsey found it,” said Ursula. “I thought you should have it.”

“That was very kind of you, dear,” said Andromeda, clasping Ursula’s hand in thanks. “Anyone care for more tea?”

Ursula could have sworn she wiped tears from her eyes as she bustled away into the kitchen. On the table where she’d left the picture, a young Andromeda and her younger sister Cassiopeia waved at the camera, smiling and hugging one another.


	51. The Fight

Classes started up again on a chilly, rainy day in early January. The last thing any of them, even Ursula, wanted to do was spend an hour outside for Care of Magical Creatures, but Hagrid let them stand around the bonfire of salamanders he had prepared for the third years so they all kept nice and warm.

Slytherin played Hufflepuff a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly, and Ursula’s face was chapped and her lips were blue by the time the game ended. According to Flint, Gryffindor had upped their practices to five times a week with the intention of trouncing Ravenclaw. If they did, they would take second place in the championship.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. What did change, however, was that Ursula was now spending more than an hour most nights studying with Gemma in the library or the common room.

“We should go subject by subject,” said Gemma, explaining her studying regime. “Once we’ve sorted all of our old notes — including by spell or topic, etc. — I say we rewrite them, that way we relearn everything we might have forgotten and remember it better by writing it down. Are these all of your old notes?”

“Everything I could find,” said Ursula, dropping an enormous stack of papers onto the table in front of her. “So this is why you made me keep all of these at the end of every year.”

Gemma nodded.

“And now it’s about to pay off,” she said. “Which subject do you want to start with?”

“Charms?” suggested Ursula. “That seems like a good place to start.”

“Charms it is,” said Gemma. They sorted through notes on Cheering Charms and Banishing Charms, Levitation and Locomotion, quizzing each other on spells and wand movements and theory. The next day they reviewed Potions, and the day after that they worked on Arithmancy.

Eventually the others began to join them, especially by the time flower buds poked through the snow in early March. Cassius joined after a bad Transfiguration mark sent him spiralling, and Lilian followed, studying in their little group two days a week. All that studying cut down on the time Ursula spent with Lucian, but she was pleased to see that he had backed off of being so protective and was proudly wearing the watch she had given him now that he was seventeen.

Unfortunately, Ursula wasn’t the only one whose relationship had hit a bit of a rough patch. Or, more accurately, she was the only one among their trio who still  _ had  _ a relationship. Lilian and Philip broke up near the end of January, with no tears or broken hearts in the process. Vanessa, on the other hand, had a  _ lot  _ of tears to shed after Peter dumped her, one chilly March evening.

According to Lilian, Vanessa was up most of the night, crying or sniffling which made for intermittent and poor sleep on Lilian’s part. Since the following day was Saturday, Ursula and Lilian spent the whole morning trying to coax their friend to come to the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Match to cheer herself up.

“I j-just don’t understand w-why he’d d-dump m-me,” wailed Vanessa, crumpled tissues in hand.

“I know darling, I know,” said Ursula soothingly, rubbing her back.

“He just said h-he w-wasn’t f-feeling it!” continued Vanessa. Ursula and Lilian exchanged looks over their friend’s head. “And then he b-broke up with me!”

“Okay,” said Lilian, for the fifth or eighth or tenth time, fighting to keep the exasperation from her voice. They had been going in circles for the last hour and a half. “How about I get you a nice warm washcloth to wipe away those tears, hmm?”

She went into the bathroom, and a moment later Ursula heard water running. She put her arm around Vanessa’s shoulders and said, “You’re too good for him anyway.”

“W-What?” said Vanessa, sniffing.

“You’re kind and friendly and smart,” said Ursula, “and you have excellent poise and are very pretty.”

“B-But Peter was h-handsome,” said Vanessa with a hiccup.

“But was he nice to other people? Did he have your grace? How smart could he be if he dumped you?”

Up until now, they had been careful about pointing out to Vanessa that Peter had dumped her because it kept setting her off, but this line of reasoning seemed to get through to her. Lilian returned with the damp washcloth and handed it to Vanessa, who wiped her eyes.

“There. Feel better?” asked Lilian. Vanessa nodded tentatively.

“You don’t have to be over him right away,” said Ursula. “But it does you no good to wallow like this. You were  _ fou amoureux _ , weren’t you? You were madly in love, so it hurts more.”

“But it’ll pass,” added Lilian. “You’ll find someone way better than him and it’ll be love at first sight.”

“ _ Avoir un coup de foudre _ ,” said Ursula. Vanessa nodded, more convinced this time.

“Would you like to come to the game with us?” asked Lilian.

“I guess so,” said Vanessa, with another little hiccup.

“Go get ready, and we’ll wait for you,” said Ursula.

“What was that last thing you said?” whispered Lilian, as Vanessa went into the bathroom.

“It means to be struck by a bolt of lightning,” said Ursula. “It’s another expression for love at first sight.”

“Well speaking of love, how are you and Lucian? You haven’t talked much about him lately,” said Lilian. Ursula shrugged. “Are you still not over what happened at Christmas? It’s been two months.”

“I know, I know, but it was more than that,” said Ursula. “I’m definitely overthinking his reaction to finding out about my dad, but it was the way he acted with Hadrian that bothers me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t been so protective recently —” Lilian gave her an unconvinced look “— really, he hasn’t, but I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until it was so overboard,” Ursula continued. “Now I keep seeing little things, like how if I need anything done he has to be the one to do it. Little stuff, like passing the salt at dinner. Or how when Flint kept Adrian and I back to talk strategy, he stayed too. Before I would’ve thought it was sweet, but it just felt like he didn’t trust me with Adrian.”

“So do you think it’s about jealousy or trust?” said Lilian.

“He’s jealous, alright,” said Ursula. “But it makes me feel like he doesn’t trust me, or at the very least trust me to take care of myself.”

“Are you going to break up with him?” Lilian’s voice was hushed.

“I don’t know,” said Ursula, shaking her head in exasperation. “I don’t know. But I definitely need to talk to him about it.”

Just then Vanessa emerged, her eyes back to normal after they had been red and puffy with tears. The three girls linked arms and strolled up to the Quidditch Pitch. By the time they arrived, Vanessa was in a much better mood, and she kept repeating what Ursula had said about Peter not being worth it. Ursula imagined she had thoroughly convinced herself by the time they had reached the stands, but it was progress for her friend to have cheered up.

“Cinnamon roll?” asked Cassius. Ursula had asked him to grab breakfast for the three of them, and he seemed to somehow have smuggled an entire tray of cinnamon rolls out of the Great Hall and into the stands. “Did you hear that Potter’s got a Firebolt?”

“He WHAT?” yelped Lilian, nearly dropping her cinnamon roll. “How did that happen?”

Cassius shrugged.

“Don’t ask me,” he said. “But Ravenclaw’s seeker — Cho Chang — doesn’t stand a chance on her Comet Two Sixty.”

Ursula just nodded and reached for a cinnamon roll. She didn’t like the emotionally drained feeling she felt when Lucian popped up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said. “Missed you at breakfast.”

“I missed you too,” said Ursula. “But I missed breakfast more.”

Lucian laughed.

“You know, I could have brought you some —”

“— because it’s a boyfriend’s job, yes, Lucian, I know,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes.

“Well you should’ve asked me,” said Lucian, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I want to do it.”

“Alright,” said Ursula. “The next time one of my friends has a breakdown because her good-for-nothing boyfriend dumped her, I’ll ask you to grab us breakfast.”

The two teams walked out onto the pitch, Gryffindor in scarlet robes and Ravenclaw in blue. Oliver Wood and Roger Davies shook hands.

“Come on Alice!” shouted Lilian as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the two teams rocketed into the air.

“They’re off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt’s going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year’s World Championship —”

“Jordan, would you mind telling us what’s going on in the match?” interrupted Professor McGonagall’s voice. Ursula laughed.

“Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —”

“Jordan!”

“Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…”

There was no denying it; Harry’s broom could leave them all in the dust. Only the Slytherins had a chance at catching them, and Ursula knew that their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones were only so fast.

The new seeker, Cho, was undoubtedly a good flier. She kept cutting across Harry, forcing him to change direction again and again. Katie Bell scored; the Gryffindors cheered and the Slytherins joined in with the Ravenclaws’ boos and moans.

“Looks like Harry Potter’s seen the Snitch!” said Lee, as Harry took off, diving towards the ground. “Cho Chang is on his tail — Potter’s almost there — OOH!”

A Bludger from Luca, one of Ravenclaw’s beaters, came pelting out of nowhere. Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished. The Gryffindors made noises of disappointment, but there was much applause for their beater at the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

“Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter’s really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang’s Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt’s precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —”

“JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!”

Ravenclaw soon pulled back, scoring three goals that had the Slytherins cheering; all they wanted was for Gryffindor to lose.

“HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!” Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision with Cho, who blocked him yet again. “KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!”

Harry took off down the pitch, rising up and down to throw Cho off course. He seemed to have spotted the Snitch for real and was streaking towards the ground near the Ravenclaw end.

“Oh!” Cho screamed.

“What in the name of Merlin’s saggy —” swore Cassius.

Three Dementors — well, three students very obviously pretending to be Dementors — stood at the edge of the pitch. Unfortunately for them, Harry wasted no time in whipping out his wand and shouting, “ _ Expecto patronum _ !”

“Oh my!” said Ursula, as silvery white light erupted from the end of Harry’s wand. “He — he tried to cast a Patronus!”

“He caught the Snitch!” shouted Lucian angrily.

“Damn,” said Adrian.

“What were those Dementors doing here?” said Lilian. “Did you feel cold? Because I didn’t.”

Ursula shook her head.

“Those weren’t Dementors, Lils,” she said. “Some foolish students, no doubt.”

“Correction,” said Cassius, a mischievous grin on his face as he popped the last cinnamon roll into his mouth. “One of those students would be  _ your  _ foolish  _ cousin _ .”

Ursula groaned.

“What an idiot,” she said.

“Eh, no harm, no foul,” said Lucian. “Come on, let’s go back to the castle.”

The Gryffindors were undoubtedly about to have a roaring celebration. The rest of the school had lunch and went about their day, some more disappointed than others. It wasn’t until the next morning, when Ursula was quite groggy from a late night spent doing rune translations, that she heard the news.

“Ursula, are you listening to me?” said Lucian, cutting through her sleep-deprived stupor.

“Of course,” said Ursula. “But whether or not I actually heard anything you just said is an entirely different question.”

“ _ I said _ that Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor tower last night,” said Lucian, far too casually for such news. Ursula’s fork clanged against her plate.

“Pardon?”

“The castle was searched,” said Lucian. “Some idiot left out a list of passwords and apparently Black found them and broke in.”

“I’m so glad we’re down in the dungeons,” said Ursula, yawning as she laid her head on Lucian’s shoulder.

“You’re taking this news a lot more casually than I expected,” teased Lucian.

“Can you blame me? I’m tired,” said Ursula. “Let me guess: Black broke in, escaped, and now we all have to deal with tighter security as a result.”

Of course, she was right. Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

“Alright,” said Ursula, standing up from the table. “I said I’d go visit the hippogriffs today.”

“Not with Black on the loose, you’re not,” protested Lucian.

“Where would I be safer than with half a dozen creatures with ten sharp talons each who will not hesitate to attack if threatened?” challenged Ursula. “You can come with, if you like, but you won’t keep me here.”

“Alright,” said Lucian. “I just worry, that’s all. Black  _ is _ your cousin…”

“If he wanted to contact me, I’d imagine he already would have,” said Ursula. 

They headed out the front doors, past Professor Flitwick, and along the edge of the Forbidden Forest until they reached Hagrid’s Hut.

“Ah, Ursula, thank yeh fur comin’,” said Hagrid, opening his door before they could knock. “An’ who’s this? I don’ believe I taught yeh.”

“This is Lucian Bole,” said Ursula. “He had Professor Kettleburn last year.”

“Come on in, both of yeh,” said Hagrid, beckoning them inside. “Beaky’s in here.”

The first thing they saw on entering Hagrid’s cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid’s patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Lucian looked like he wanted to protest when Ursula bowed and then went to pet Buckbeak, but he hung back and said nothing.

“Are you ready for the trial?” said Ursula, stroking the soft feathers on Buckbeak’s head. She had had a row with Draco when she found out that there was to be a trial, and she’d been helping Hagrid prepare his case ever since.

“With all o’ yer help, I say we stand as good a chance as any,” said Hagrid.

“I wrote out everything we’ve talked about,” said Ursula, pulling a folder from her bag and handing it to Hagrid. “While there have only been a few such cases over the years, quite a few people have gone to trial against thunderbirds, trials which usually end in the bird’s favor, so I’ve compiled evidence from those to hopefully help you.”

Hagrid suddenly seemed to tear up. He set the folder on the table and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth, into which he loudly blew his nose.

“Thank yeh so much, Ursula,” said Hagrid. “I know it mus’ be hard, wha’ with yer cousin an’ uncle on the other side.”

“It was Draco’s fault, really,” said Ursula. “Buckbeak doesn’t deserve to suffer for that. How are you getting to the trial?”

“Him an’ me’ll be goin’ down ter London together o’ Friday. I’ve booked two beds on the Knight Bus…” said Hagrid. He blew his nose again. “Well, I s’pose yeh’ll be wanting ter see Starkfeather. I brough’ him out ter the paddock for yeh. Go on an’ have a look.”

“Thanks Hagrid,” said Ursula. “Good luck at the trial. See you later, Buckbeak.”

She gave him one last pat on the beak, then led Lucian out of the hut and further along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, climbing over the gate into the paddock where Starkfeather waited. He nickered happily when he saw her, rustling his wings. Ursula went right up to him, giving him the informal bow they had both grown accustomed to (she had been visiting him regularly) but Lucian hung back.

“Bow to him,” instructed Ursula, stroking Starkfeather’s iridescent black feathers. “Bow to him, and wait until he bows back.”

Lucian did as instructed, bowing at the waist and waiting for Starkfeather to do the same. He waited for a long moment, and Ursula wasn’t sure if Starkfeather was going to bow or not, but finally he did, though he watched Lucian with wary orange eyes.

“Now you can come pet him,” said Ursula, beckoning Lucian closer.

He regarded the Hippogriff with the same wariness that Starkfeather regarded him. Lucian reached out tentatively and gave Starkfeather’s beak a few hesitant pats. That was quite enough for them both, with Lucian stepping back so he was safely out of reach of Starkfeather’s talons and with Starkfeather nuzzling Ursula.

“You’re so handsome,” cooed Ursula. Starkfeather preened happily. There was nothing he liked better than compliments, so that’s what Ursula gave him. “And very strong, yes you are.”

After a while, Ursula knew Lucian was getting bored, so she gave Starkfeather one final pat and accompanying compliment and then bid him goodbye, much to his displeasure. She and Lucian then headed back up to the castle, holding hands the whole way.

Black’s second Hogwarts break-in had created another problem aside from tightened security. Ursula was forced to spend much of her time pointing out to ignorant and noisy students that her mother, not her father, was a member of the Black family, and that her father was  _ absolutely not Sirius Black _ . This had the unfortunate side effect that people were beginning to wonder who her father was, and even if she was really a pureblood.

For instance, Ursula was attempting to study in the library while Vanessa and Adrian were at Divination, but a group of second years kept glancing over at her and talking in the barest imitation of a whisper. The whispers were innocent enough, but after a week of rather less friendly rumors and a particularly ghastly day, Ursula was sick of it.

The next time the second years glanced her way, she shot back an unusually nasty glare that quelled their whispers and made one of them squeak. One foolhardy boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but Cassius, enraged on behalf of his friend, rose to his full height and stared him down.

“Go back to your common room,” said Ursula, her voice icy. “Find something else to occupy your time.”

The second years couldn’t scurry out of the library fast enough.

“You can be quite scary when you want to be, you know,” said Lilian. “It’ll all blow over in a week or so.”

“It can’t blow over soon enough,” said Ursula. “Cassius,  _ sit down _ .”

“Why don’t you just tell them who your father is?” murmured Cassius, sinking reluctantly back into his seat.

“Because it’s none of their bloody business,” growled Ursula, still staring darkly after them.

“Why won’t you let me dock points from them?” said Cassius.

“Technically, they haven’t broken any school rules,” said Ursula.

“Well  _ I _ don’t mind abusing my powers for a good cause,” said Cassius. Ursula gave a tired laugh.

“Let’s head to Potions,” she said.

While the rest of the school was far too interested in the identity of Ursula’s father, the elitist Slytherins were more concerned with whether or not her blood was as pure as theirs. Ursula was about ready to scream as she sat in the common room finishing an essay, knowing she was the most interesting topic of conversation among the much more adept gossipers in Slytherin.

“Hello Ursula,” said Imogen Nott, a sixth year and apparently the selected candidate to get her to open up. Imogen slid into the seat opposite her.

“Imogen,” greeted Ursula. She had nothing against Imogen, a thin, weedy girl who was generally kind, if at times harsh and, of course, elitist.

“So, about this business with your father?”

Ursula was glad she at least cut to the chase, so they wouldn’t have to dance around for the next ten minutes pretending they didn’t know why she was here.

“Frankly, I’m amazed any of you have the gall to doubt me,” said Ursula coolly, “and by extension, the entire House of Black.”

“Er — what, um, what do you mean?” said Imogen, glancing back at her group of friends. This was a conversation with an audience, and Ursula was addressing them all.

“My grandparents made me their heir,” said Ursula. “Something I’m sure you’re all aware of. Why make that choice if I was not as pure as they?”

Her eyes swept the room, and it took every ounce of restraint to stay calm, just as her governess had taught her.

“I expect no further discussion on the matter,” said Ursula. “Anymore, and I shall consider it a direct insult to the House of Black.”

She turned back to her essay and focused very hard on not letting her hands shake. Everyone went back to their business, Imogen rose and left, and soon she was able to breathe again. She didn’t care if she sounded rude or snobbish, and she had faith that her reputation and the weight of her words would be enough to finally quell speculation.

And it was, at least among the Slytherins. No further talk reached Ursula’s ears, and she was able to breathe a little easier. She could tolerate questions. She could handle rumors, and infuriating whispers, and even outright insults against her. But she wouldn’t let anyone dare insult her mother. So when someone finally did,  _ that _ was when Ursula snapped.

Ursula and the others were on their way from Ancient Runes to History of Magic when a group of seventh years made no attempt to hide their rude remarks. Ursula did her best to walk past them and ignore it.

“Is she even pureblood?” scoffed one seventh year.

Ursula’s hand clenched on the strap of her bag. This was fine, she could handle this, just keeping walking —

“She probably doesn’t even know who her father is,” said another passing seventh year. Ursula stopped in her tracks. “Why would she have her mother’s last name unless her mother was a wh —”

Ursula rounded on him, shoving the seventh year into the wall. The crowd gasped, heads turning, students crowding closer to get a good look. Ursula pinned him to the wall, one hand gripping his collar, the other pointing her wand at his face.

“Say it,” she hissed, her face inches from his. The seventh year’s face went slack. He eyed the wand in her hand and tried to struggle away from her. “Insult my mother. Say I took her last name because she didn’t know who my father was. Say it.  _ I dare you _ .”

“Ms. Black!” squeaked Professor Flitwick. The crowd parted to let him through. “What is going on here?”

“Nothing, Professor,” said Ursula innocently, releasing the seventh year. He slid down the wall, looking at her with newfound fear in his eyes.

“Mr. Taylor? Do you have anything to add?”

Simon opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I suppose he just has nothing to say,” said Ursula. She turned, helped the boy to his feet with a sweet smile, and stalked off. Lucian, who had been among the crowd, ditched his friends and ran after her.

“Was that a nonverbal spell?” he said, when they were in an empty corridor. Ursula shrugged.

“I don’t care.” Though her face was carefully composed into indifference, there was a waver in her voice that made him pause.

“I’m sorry he said that to you,” said Lucian. “It was very rude to insult your mother.”

A tear ran down Ursula’s cheek, cracking her mask of apathy. Lucian wrapped his arms around her and let her cry quietly into his shoulder.

“I’m just so angry,” she whispered. “Everyone thinks they have a right to know about my life.”

“I know, I know,” said Lucian. “It’s okay. It’ll pass.”

“Do you trust me?”

“What?” said Lucian, taken aback by the question. Ursula pulled back a little from the hug to look up at him.

“When you asked about my father,” said Ursula, “at Christmas. Did you trust me?”

“Of course I did — I do,” said Lucian quickly. “And it means a lot to me that you told me.”

“Why did you want to know?”

“Ursula, I… I was just curious,” said Lucian.

“You wanted to be sure,” said Ursula.

“No, it’s not like that — that’s not fair,” protested Lucian. “I was just curious, okay?”

“See you later,” said Ursula, wiping her eyes and turning on her heel.

“Hey, wait! Ursula, wait!” said Lucian, running after her and catching her wrist. “Listen… there’s a Hogsmeade trip on Saturday. How about we go on a date? You could use some cheering up. What do you say?”

Ursula nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

She turned and headed off to her next class. Lucian had to run to get to Alchemy, and as he did, he passed the group of seventh years that had insulted his girlfriend, including Simon Taylor, who had the gall to act like he had had the situation under control, and as if Ursula was the one who was out of line.

Before Lucian knew what was happening, his fist had connected with Simon’s face, and Simon was yelling and his friends were shouting, and a stern Professor McGonagall had swooped down upon the scene. In the end, she docked Slytherin twenty points and gave Lucian detention, before sending them all off to class, Lucian with bruised knuckles and Simon with a black eye.

It was worth it, decided Lucian, his knuckles smarting, as he ducked into Alchemy just before the bell rang. It was definitely worth it.

Ursula, on the other hand, was quiet during Professor Binns’s lecture on Minister for Magic Damocles Rowle, a topic she would have normally enjoyed. She barely even took notes, and chucked her crumpled piece of parchment into the trash when the bell rang. She knew all about Damocles Rowle already, but had she been in a better mood Gemma would’ve chided her for not taking notes. She seemed to have recovered by dinner, with only a clenched jaw to prove she still stewed quietly, and she went to Quidditch practice with added determination, earning her extra praise from Flint for her sharp turns and brutally effective tactics.

The next morning, Simon Taylor looked rather worse for wear when Ursula saw him at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast. In addition to his black eye, which she’d learned had been courtesy of Lucian when she helped him heal his bruised knuckles, everything he tried to eat turned into a live crow and flew away. There was a rather large flock gathering on the ceiling of the Great Hall, cawing and drawing even more attention to the miserable Simon.

“What’s that about?” said Ursula, sitting down next to Cassius.

“You, obviously,” said Cassius.

“I mean, who did it?” said Ursula.

“Fred and George. I, er, asked them to,” confessed Cassius, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Ursula looked incredulous. “Well, you seemed so upset after what happened, so I told them about it and asked if there was a way to make Taylor ‘eat crow’ as it were, and I guess they, er, took it literally.”

Ursula laughed.

“I guess they did,” she agreed. “You’re a good friend, Cass.”

“He deserved it,” said Cassius. “Let’s see how long it takes him to apologise — Fred said that was the only way to stop the spell.”

“There’s, um, something I want to talk to you about,” said Ursula. “I’d prefer if you didn’t mention it to anyone… well, Lilian already knows, but Vanessa…”

“Is this about Lucian?”

Ursula nodded.

“I don’t know if I want to break up with him or what,” she said, lowering her voice. “So much has happened recently that I haven’t had the emotional capacity to spare to have it out with him. I don’t know if I want to break up with him or not, but that’s the problem.  _ I just don’t know. _ ”

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help here,” said Cassius. “What is it that makes you want to break up with him?”

“I don’t know, exactly… he’s very proud and very protective, and sometimes it feels like he doesn’t trust me because of that,” Ursula answered slowly. “And… I don’t think I like him as much as he likes me.”

“Why are you confused, then?”

“Because I still like him,” said Ursula. “A lot. And there are days when I feel great about it, and other days when I feel terrible.”

“I wish I could be of more help,” said Cassius.

“Just listening means a lot,” said Ursula. “Besides, you’ve done quite enough for me already, and I appreciate it.”

It was shortly after lunchtime that Simon stopped Ursula to apologize. She was on her way to Potions, and he had apparently figured out the answer to not having crows for anymore meals. Ursula stared at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he said. It really was quite the shiner Lucian had given him. “I’m sorry for what I said, what I was about to say, about your mom. It was way out of line.”

“Thank you for your apology,” said Ursula evenly. Simon nodded and left when it became clear that was all she had to say. She could accept his apology, but she wasn’t about to forgive him. Her acceptance was enough, it seemed, because no more crows appeared at dinner.

Saturday — Ursula’s date with Lucian — came, and she felt prepared enough to have a tough conversation with Lucian about their relationship. They walked to Hogsmeade hand in hand. Flowers were beginning to bloom along the muddy path and it was the first warm, sunny day in a while.

“Where do you want to go?” asked Lucian. “I figured we could have tea at the Three Broomsticks, and I want to go to Honeydukes.”

“I want to get a new quill, and I ordered a book at Tomes & Scrolls,” said Ursula.

“How about we start there?” suggested Lucian. They headed up High Street towards the dusty bookshop, where Lucian wandered through the shelves while Ursula paid for the book she ordered on Hippogriffs.

“Lucian, I think we should —”

“Hey, did you see this book about Quidditch Players in history?” said Lucian, cutting her off. Ursula didn’t think he’d heard her. “Now there’s a book I’d read.”

“Why don’t you buy it?” said Ursula.

“I think I will,” replied Lucian.

The next place they went was Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, where Ursula again failed to start a conversation while she bought a handsome eagle feather quill. They went onto Honeydukes, which was too crowded to properly talk. Ursula bought a large box of chocolate frogs for Cassius as a thank-you gift.

“Lucian, when we get to the Three Broomsticks —” Ursula began, her voice rising over the din of the crowded shop.

“Do you want a sugar quill?” said Lucian. Either he hadn’t heard her, which was likely, or he was ignoring her, which might make their inevitable conversation more difficult. Finally, they made it to the Three Broomsticks, ordered their tea, and sat down.

“So, Lucian —”

“Hogsmeade’s busy today, don’t you think?” said Lucian, looking around.

“Lucian!”

“What?”

“We need to have a talk,” said Ursula, when she finally got his attention.

“What about?” asked Lucian. “How well our date is going?”

“Now is not the time for teasing,” said Ursula. “No, we need to talk about our relationship.”

“What about it?” said Lucian. He held one of her hands that was resting on the table. “We’re doing great, aren’t we?”

“Er, so lately I’ve just been feeling like you don’t… trust me,” said Ursula, pulling her hand away. “I don’t think you consciously do it, it’s just little things like with my father, and when I’m around other guys.”

“You’re still upset that I asked about your father?” said Lucian. “That was months ago. You could’ve just not told me.”

“It’s because it seemed like you didn’t trust me!” said Ursula. “You’re always interrupting me when I spend time with Adrian or Cassius, you complained the last time I went on patrol with Lewis —”

“— because he gave you those earrings and I don’t want him getting any ideas!”

“Those earrings were from Hadrian,” said Ursula quietly.

“So you  _ lied _ to me?” said Lucian.

“Because you had just insulted and fought with my friend, yes, I did,” said Ursula. “You feel the need to protect me all the time when there’s almost nothing to protect me from, you’re constantly trying to do things for me, and you blow up at the slightest thing.”

“I have to intervene when I see other guys flirting with you,” said Lucian. “You’re practically oblivious to it —”

“Another guy talking to me doesn’t automatically mean he’s flirting,” interrupted Ursula.

“— or you’re the one flirting!” finished Lucian.

“Excuse me?” said Ursula.

“Oh come on, all that laughing and smiling, you know what you’re doing,” said Lucian. “What, am I not good enough for you?”

“That’s called having a conversation,” said Ursula. “This is what I was talking about when I said you don’t trust me! As to your last question — I can’t believe you of all people would accuse me of being elitist.”

“Your words, not mine!” said Lucian. Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “And since you’ve made it quite clear that everything I do annoys you, why don’t we talk about what you do. You’re always studying —”

“For my OWLs,” protested Ursula.

“— which are still three months away,” said Lucian. “It feels like you’re avoiding me on purpose for no good reason.”

Ursula bristled. Truth be told, it was a fair blow, and these last few weeks she’d been glad of the excuse to cut down on the time she spent with him, but only because he was so protective.

“Any other grievances?” she snapped. “It all comes down to that you feel like I can’t be trusted to take care of myself. Maybe Hadrian was right.” It was a low blow, but she took it.

“Oh, yes, Hadrian the Saint, he’s always right, isn’t he?” said Lucian. “Always giving you a gift at Christmas or asking you to dance. Yes, there’s no reason I should be concerned about his intentions.”

“Forgive me for sharing one dance with a friend who I only see during holidays,” said Ursula. “You don’t have a monopoly on who I spend time with, as much as you would like to.”

“As your boyfriend, I —”

“I don’t know if you can call yourself that anymore,” said Ursula. “Lucian, I think we should —”

“Ursula! Ursula!”

It was Draco. He could not have picked a worse time. Through his eagerness, he did not see their anger.

“Did you hear? That oaf lost his case! The Hippogriff is gonna be executed!”

This was another emotional blow.

“Bloody hell,” swore Ursula. She stood up, grabbing her bag. “Lucian, we’re —”

“No!” said Lucian, jumping up and catching her wrist. “No, we’re not. I still like you, maybe even —”

“— don’t say it —” warned Ursula.

“— love you, and I don’t think this is the end of us,” said Lucian. “This was just a fight, and we’ll get over it.”

Ursula was torn between her desire to stay and break up with him now after this new tactic of manipulation — maybe Lucian’s feelings were genuine, but it was unfair to bring them up now — and find out more about Hagrid and Buckbeak. She looked at Lucian, determined and upset, and Draco, eager and completely unaware.

“We’ll talk later,” she hissed, yanking her arm away. “Don’t get your hopes up. Come on, Draco.”

Ursula left the Three Broomsticks. Her decision was made, but the fight wasn’t over. She felt drained by the whole thing and now, with the news of Buckbeak’s execution… she was going to need chocolate and a lot of tissues.


	52. The Quidditch Final

Ursula dumped Lucian.

After she left the Three Broomsticks, she received a tear stained letter from Hagrid covered in ink blots, saying that they had lost, that Hagrid was allowed to bring Buckbeak back to Hogwarts, and that the execution date had yet to be set. Then Ursula had had a row with Draco, telling him that it was all his fault and he had overreacted and it never would’ve happened if he’d just listened to Hagrid in the first place.

Ursula had then stormed back to the castle alone so she could prepare to break up with Lucian. She changed into a cute polka dotted dress — was it mean that she wanted to look cute? It didn’t matter, she felt more confident in the dress so wear it she did — and brushed her hair and washed her face so that she was all dolled up by the time Lucian returned. She suggested that they go on a walk around the castle to talk, and when they reached an empty corridor, she stopped and broke up with him on the spot.

“Lucian, we’re done” she said, turning to face him. “I’m breaking up with you.”

For a moment, Lucian stood frozen, mouth agape. Then he started to protest.

“Wha — I — why — what —” he spluttered. “How could you do this to me?”

“I just don’t want to date you anymore,” said Ursula.

“But after our fight!” he protested. “I thought we could work things out and we’d be alright!”

“It’s  _ because _ of our fight that I’m breaking up with you,” said Ursula. “Our fight, and everything that caused it.”

“Why didn’t you just break up with me then?” said Lucian, getting angry.

“I tried!” said Ursula.

After that, she let him shout for a few minutes about how she was breaking his heart, how after all he had done for her, all they’d been through, this was what she did, about how good they were together. Ursula stayed silent for the most part, largely because she didn’t trust herself not to cry if she argued any longer. She stood there in her pretty white dress with pink polka dots and the pretty pink shoes that went with it, arms crossed and foot tapping away, and dumped her boyfriend, letting her now-ex shout himself hoarse.

“But I love you!” said Lucian, seemingly reaching the end of his pleading. His face was red from all the shouting, his fists were clenched, and Ursula felt about ready to cry at the stress of it all.

“I’m not sure you do,” said Ursula, shaking her head and crossing to the end of the corridor to leave. “It’s over.”

“Wait wait wait, Ursula!” shouted Lucian, running after her and grabbing her wrist, forcing her to turn and face him. “You can’t do this to me!”

“I thought I just did,” said Ursula, her face stony. She yanked her wrist out of his grasp. “We’re finished, Lucian.”

She turned and hurried away, down a staircase that began to move before Lucian could follow. She felt a bit like Cinderella, a Muggle story Andromeda had read to her once, except Lucian wasn’t her prince — and she still had both her shoes. Ursula could still hear Lucian shouting as he ran after her, but she didn’t stop as she rushed down the stairs, almost running straight into the Weasley twins, who were carrying bags of Zonko’s merchandise.

“What’s up Black?” said Fred, grinning at her. “Nice dress.”

Ursula burst into tears.

“I’m sorry!” said Fred at once, his face falling. But Ursula was already hurrying away from him too, a hand over her mouth as she choked back sobs. “Ursula! I’m sorry! Was it something I said?”

Ursula made it through the sparsely populated Slytherin common room and slammed the door to her dorm behind her. She sat down, leaning against her bed in her cute, brand new, pink-and-white polka dotted dress, and cried her heart out.

After a minute, she felt whiskers tickling her ear and turned to see Betelgeuse nuzzling her cheek, purring determinedly. Ursula half laughed, half sobbed, and pulled him into her lap.

“Oh Beej,” she whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. “What do you think?”

Betelgeuse kneaded her stomach gently with his paws, purring and rubbing his head against her hand.

“You’re right,” said Ursula. “I’m glad I dumped him.”

Ursula took a deep breath. Even if she missed Lucian, was he really worth crying over for any longer? No, she decided. Crying wasn’t bad, and she felt relieved having done so, but she wasn’t about to waste anymore tears on a guy she was glad to be rid of. It took a while (three times in the next half hour she burst into tears) to hold herself to that, but finally she’d cried enough. Originally, she was crying from regret, but now she was relieved of the tangle of emotions that had been building up.

She got up, set Betelgeuse on her bed, and went into the bathroom. Ursula was in the process of washing her face — her mascara had started to run — when there was a knock on the door of her dorm.

“Come in!” called Ursula, wiping her face with a warm washcloth to get some of the puffiness around her eyes to recede.

“It’s me,” said Lilian. “I take it you broke up with him?”

Ursula nodded. She dried her face and came out of the bathroom, motioning for Lilian to sit.

“I tried to do it in Hogsmeade,” she said. “Draco interrupted us, so when Lucian got back from Hogsmeade — we had a huge fight and I came back first — I suggested we go on a walk around the castle, that way we’d be alone.”

“How did he take it?” said Lilian. “Not well, I’m assuming.”

“He kept saying that he wouldn’t let me do it, how dare I do this to him, stuff like that,” said Ursula.

“No regrets, right?” said Lilian.

“No regrets,” echoed Ursula, nodding. “Care to share some chocolate with me?”

“I’d love to,” said Lilian.

While at Honeydukes, Ursula had bought a large box full of Chocoballs, large chocolate sweets filled with strawberry mousse and clotted cream. It was just what she needed as a pick-me-up. She and Lilian sat cross-legged on Ursula’s bed, passing the box back and forth and indulging themselves as they unloaded everything that had been stressing them out. Ursula told Lilian about Buckbeak, and Lilian talked about being afraid the guy she liked — Luca Bailey — wouldn’t like her back, then they both talked about their OWLs. It was oddly cathartic for them both.

Before dinner, Ursula gave Cassius the chocolate frogs she had bought for him and a hug, and he assured her that she was too good for Lucian anyway.

Since they were in different years, they had no classes together, and it was easy for Ursula to avoid Lucian throughout the day and ignore him should their paths cross at meals or in the common room. She’d caught him glancing at her longingly, though he hadn’t made any attempt to win her back, for which she was grateful. Really, the only time she couldn’t avoid him was during Quidditch practice, which was quite awkward for a few days and worsened performance for them both.

“Black! Bole!” shouted Flint finally, blasting his whistle. “Keep your drama off the field and  _ play _ , goddamnit! We’ve got a game to win!”

Ursula nodded and ignored Lucian, relying on him to do his job and keep Bludgers away from her. After a few more practices, Lucian seemed to have moved on like Ursula had, and things returned to normal.

Ursula had plenty to keep her occupied even when things were out of the ordinary. For starters, she had been doing even more research into Buckbeak’s case to prepare an appeal. She knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione were also researching — Hagrid told her — so she focused more on the laws protecting Buckbeak then previous cases.

Apparently Hermione had punched Draco for mocking Hagrid, which Ursula privately thought was well deserved. She ignored her cousin’s pathetic attempts to garner sympathy from her, still very upset at him for causing the whole unfortunate affair.

Next, with their exams drawing ever closer, Ursula had only been prompted to study harder, and come up with new ways to recall information. Part of their League of Laurels meetings had even turned into OWL review — and NEWT review for the seventh years who attended — to give them a chance to practice the spells they thought might come up.

Finally — and most importantly — it was time for Ursula to submit her application for the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary Internship Program. She had asked Professor McGonagall for one of her letters of recommendation, of course, and the other one had to come from Hagrid, who was nonetheless very honored that she asked him. He said as much.

“I’d be honored,” said Hagrid, teary eyed. Of course, he spent a lot of days teary eyed recently, as the aftermath of Buckbeak’s trial set it. “Yer one o’ the best students I’ve e’er had, an’ with all yer doin’ fur Beaky… this’ll be a grea’ letter, don’ yeh worry about tha’.”

Ursula also had to fill out a questionnaire and write an essay about why she wanted the internship, which had been proofread by no less than three of her friends — Gemma, Adrian, and Lilian — and both Professors McGonagall and Snape.

She mailed her completed application from the Hogsmeade Post Office, dreading the fact that she would have to wait until May to find out if she was accepted.

Meanwhile, March faded into April, accompanied by the scent of flowers wafting over the grounds and the occasional heavy rain. Their teachers had upped the amount of homework they were receiving even more, and were now administering grades according to OWL standards. All of this made the Easter holidays anything from relaxing.

“I hate this,” said Cassius, thumbing through his copy of  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ looking for things to quiz Adrian on. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.”

“So do I,” said Vanessa. Sighing, she set her Arithmancy textbook aside and began to recite her notes.

“What is the correct incantation to turn and owl into opera glasses?” said Cassius, looking up at Adrian from where he was sprawled on the floor.

“Er…” said Adrian, squeezing his eyes shut as he racked his brain. “Um… anyone else?”

“ _ Strigiforma _ ,” supplied Ursula, at the adjacent table, as she studied a list of potion ingredients.

In the last week of April, Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff. It was a lengthy, brutal match that ensured Gryffindor, having beat Ravenclaw, would retain second place in the championship, trailing Slytherin by exactly two hundred points.

“I think I’ll go congratulate Luca,” said Lilian after the match, referring to the Ravenclaw Beater. She fixed her hair and left, Vanessa giggling after her.

“Flint wants to see us,” said Adrian to Ursula. “Just the two of us.”

“Now?” she said. Adrian shrugged.

“I guess he’s not going to waste any time between now and the final match,” he said.

Indeed, while Ravenclaws celebrated and Hufflepuffs moped, Flint spent nearly two hours lecturing Adrian and Ursula on formation and tactics for their last match. They were now practicing six nights a week, which left Ursula swamped with homework.

Spring hadn’t just brought along a little romance for Lilian, however. It had also brought the worst date Vanessa had ever been on.

As promised, Ursula and Cassius booked a table at Madam Puddifoot’s across the room from where Vanessa and Miles Bletchley were having one horrendous date. Still sore from being dumped by Peter, Vanessa had said yes when Bletchley asked her out, and was sorely regretting it now.

They were barely twenty minutes into the date when Ursula and Cassius intervened. Ursula whisked Vanessa away, grabbing her hand before Bletchley could and leading her right out the door. Cassius, two inches taller than Bletchley and twice as muscular, stared him down to make sure he didn’t follow.

“Now I see how you must have felt when you went out with my brother,” said Vanessa, as she and Ursula strolled arm in arm down High Street, with Cassius following them. Ursula laughed.

“You have no idea,” she said.

The arrival of May brought another important date: Ursula’s birthday.

Rather than the usual celebration, where her friends would surprise her with gifts at breakfast or in the common room, Ursula wanted to plan something special to cheer them all up. What with their OWLs rapidly approaching, no improvement on Buckbeak’s case, and Quidditch practice six days a week, she felt they deserved a treat.

“Hey, Weasley!” called Ursula, speaking to Fred after a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. “Where’s your partner in crime?”

“He’s in the Hospital Wing,” said Fred. “He’s sick from something we made — er, something he ate.”

“Ah,” said Ursula, choosing not to question him any further. “Tell him I hope for a speedy recovery. Now, I was hoping you could tell me where I might find the kitchens.”

“Oh?” said Fred, his familiar mischievous grin appearing. “What would a prefect like you want with the kitchens? And what makes you think I know?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” said Ursula, also grinning. “I have something I want to ask the house elves for their help on, of course.”

“For your birthday?” asked Fred.

“How did you know?” said Ursula. She couldn’t recall mentioning her plans to anyone. Fred’s ears had suddenly gone pink.

“Oh, um,” he said, avoiding her eyes for a moment. “I must’ve heard you mention it to Fenharrow back there.”

“Of course,” said Ursula, prompting, “The kitchens?”

“Yes, yes, I can show you, if you like,” said Fred. “Since it’s lunchtime.”

“Lead the way.”

They headed down a few flights, across the Entrance Hall, and down the staircase that led to the Hufflepuff Basement.

“I’m sorry if I offended you the other day,” said Fred. “Well, two months ago. I guess this is a pretty late apology.”

“Apology for what?” said Ursula. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“In March,” said Fred. “You came around the corner, and I said hi and said your, er, your dress looked nice, and then you burst into tears and ran off.”

“Oh!” said Ursula. She laughed. “Oh, no, you didn’t offend me. No, I had just dumped Lucian. I was about to cry whether or not I saw you. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“That’s a relief,” said Fred. “Not — not that you were about to cry, but that I didn’t offend you.”

They both laughed. They ended up in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

“Welcome to the kitchens,” said Fred. “Or, more accurately, the door to the kitchens.”

He quirked an eyebrow at Ursula, who hmmed and scanned the pictures, then slid her eyes back to Fred.

“Alright, Weasley, which one is it?” she said. Fred laughed and pointed to one painted with a giant silver fruit bowl.

“Tickle the pear,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“Tickle the pear,” repeated Fred. “Just trust me.”

Feeling faintly ridiculous and wondering if this was one of Fred’s practical jokes, Ursula reached out and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Fred opened the door, motioning for Ursula to lead the way inside.

The kitchens were enormous and high-ceilinged, an exact replica of the Great Hall above, except for the mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls. There was a great brick fireplace at the other end of the room, and there were even four long House tables.

“Mr. Weasley!” squeaked one of the house elves. All one hundred or so of them wore the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest. This one had large brown eyes and a whistle-like voice.

“Hello again,” said Fred. By now they were surrounded by house elves, all of whom were beaming, bowing, and curtsying at them. “This is Ursula Black. She has a favor to ask of you.”

“We would be happy to help Miss Black!” squeaked a second house elf. “We will help her however she needs!”

“Great,” said Fred. “Bye Black.”

“Bye Weasley,” said Ursula. “Thanks again.”

Fred left, and Ursula let herself be led further into the kitchens as she explained her request from the house elves. She was delighted to see them, but they made her miss Dimsey and Helgie and she resolved to write more frequently to them. Once Ursula had told the house elves what she wanted — they happily agreed — and had accepted tea and declined the biscuits they offered, she left the kitchens and went to lunch.

“What’s got you so excited?” said Lilian.

“You’ll see,” said Ursula.

In the week leading up to her birthday, Ursula received gifts from her dads, the Malfoys, the Tonks’s, and the Scamanders. She tucked them all into her closet and promised herself she’d open them the morning of her birthday. She even got a potted plant from her house elves, trimmed from one of the garden bushes.

May the fourteenth dawned sunny and warm, a lovely Saturday morning. The grounds of Hogwarts were positively blooming.

“Happy birthday,” said Gemma, yawning. “Here, I got you a gift.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula. “But I’ve got a little something planned for today. This afternoon, at teatime, outside under one of the beech trees.”

“How mysterious,” said Gemma. “Sounds exciting.”

They went up to breakfast, and Ursula stalled the rest of her friends as well, thanking them for their birthday wishes and gifts but telling them to wait until that afternoon. It was a special day, so Ursula wore a special outfit: her pretty white dress with the pale pink polka dots and the matching pink shoes, the one she had last worn to break up with Lucian. It made her feel confident, and being confident made her feel happy, so she wore it.

“You look very bright today,” said Vanessa when she arrived at breakfast. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Vanessa darling,” said Ursula, scooping a spoonful of fresh raspberries onto her plate with a dollop of cream.

“Looks like you’ve got a letter,” said Cassius, pointing to one of the owls that swooped above as the mail arrived with a great cacophony of hooting and screeching.

“My Daily Prophet already arrived,” said Ursula. “And I don’t recognize that owl, unless —”

The tawny owl swooped low, depositing the letter it carried onto the table in front of Ursula. The envelope was thick, unmistakably addressed to her, and the return address was…

“Oh Merlin,” said Ursula. “It’s from the sanctuary.”

“I’m sure you got accepted,” said Adrian.

“Go on, open it,” said Lilian. “You’ve waited two months for this.”

“I thought they weren’t supposed to send out the letters until the end of May,” said Ursula.

“Maybe they decided early,” said Cassius. “Who knows, just open it!”

Heart hammering, Ursula picked it up.

“No,” she said. “Not yet. I’ll do it this afternoon, when we have tea.”

“You spoiled the surprise!” said Vanessa. “Not that I’m not excited, but you were so determined not to tell us.”

“All I said was that we’re going to have tea,” said Ursula. “I have a bit more planned than that. And this letter —” for a moment she contemplated just ripping it open then and there “— will have to wait until then.”

Ursula spent the rest of her day trying hard not to think about the letter. Cassius had forbidden her from doing any homework on her birthday, so Ursula had returned to her dorm and opened the gifts her family had sent her, letting Betelgeuse play in the boxes and wrapping paper. She wrote thank-you letters in reply, saving space at the bottom of each should she get good news from the sanctuary.

After that, Ursula headed down to visit Buckbeak and Starkfeather and give an update on Buckbeak’s case. Hagrid gave her a pat on the back that nearly made her knees give out, and presented her with a slice of sticky chocolate cake and a clipping of silverweed, a sort of yellow flower similar to a rose, for her birthday.

Finally, it was time for tea. Ursula gathered her friends in the Entrance Hall and led them out onto the front lawn, where, under the shade of a large beech tray, there waited two large picnic blankets and a basket.

“Sit, sit,” said Ursula. She, Lilian, and Cassius sat on one blanket and Adrian, Vanessa, and Gemma sat on the other. She opened the basket, pulling out bottles of butterbeer, a plate of fruit dipped in chocolate, another of scones layered with jam and cream, and best of all a large box of truffles.

“How?” asked Adrian, as she passed the food and drinks around.

“I asked the house elves for a little help,” said Ursula. “We’ve all been studying and practicing so hard lately that I thought we deserved a treat.”

“Hear, hear!” said Lilian.

“Does this mean you found the kitchens?” asked Cassius. Ursula winked at him.

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Is it time to open the letter yet?” asked Vanessa.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” said Ursula.

“Poppycock!” said Cassius. They all laughed.

“How about you open our gifts, and then the letter,” said Gemma.

“Oh, alright,” said Ursula.

She got a new planner from Gemma, with more room for each day’s work, a book about Astronomy where the pictures moved according to the night sky from Cassius, and a broom kit from Adrian. Vanessa gave her a book about the history of the sacred twenty-eight by Archibald Macmillan — it sounded elitist but it was written from the point of view of someone who only cared about the history and didn’t share the traditional biases — and from Lilian she got a box of Muggle sweets.

“Y’all are the best,” said Ursula. “I love you.”

“We love you too,” said Cassius. “Now open the bloody letter!”

Ursula slid her fingernail under the red wax seal stamped with a feather and a wand, crossed. Inside the envelope was a letter and a packet of papers. She opened the letter first.

“Well?” demanded Adrian eagerly, when she’d been quiet for too long. “Did you get in or not?”

“I got in!” said Ursula, waving the letter in the air. At once her friends erupted into cheers, congratulating her and thumping her on the back.

_ Dear Ms. Black _

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary Internship Program (ATSIP). Enclosed you will find an information packet detailing everything you need to know about the internship beforehand. The internship begins July third and runs for four weeks, ending on July thirtieth. Please reply promptly to this letter if you require financial assistance to travel to and from the sanctuary. _

_ This year, we have accepted six interns into our program, all of whom should consider it an honor to be chosen. ATSIP will prepare all of you for a future caring for magical creatures. Any fooling around or intentionally putting the thunderbirds or your fellow ornithologists in harm’s way will be seen as grounds for immediate dismissal without pay. _

_ The enclosed information packet includes directions to the sanctuary, packing instructions, and commonly asked questions about ATSIP. Please owl any further questions pertinent to your arrival to our offices as soon as possible. All other questions not immediately pertaining to your arrival will be answered at the start of the internship. We at the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary are eager to meet you. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Amelia Kelley _

_ Director of the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary Program _

“I knew you’d get in!” said Cassius.

“Congratulations!” squealed Vanessa.

“Thank you,” said Ursula, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank  _ you _ for this great picnic,” said Adrian, popping the last chocolate covered strawberry into his mouth.

“Wait, wait, wait!” said Lilian, jumping up. “Let’s take a picture! I brought my camera so we could take a picture together.”

She set up the camera with a timer a little ways away, then hurried back to join the group.

“Everyone say ‘Happy Birthday, Ursula!’” said Lilian.

“Happy Birthday, Ursula!” chorused everyone but Ursula, who was still beaming. They heard the camera click to signify the picture had been taken.

The picture of them all together on that lovely spring day sat proudly on Ursula’s desk for a long time.

~~~

One week and a full seven days of Quidditch practices later, and it was time for the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match to decide the Quidditch Cup. Slytherin was leading by two hundred points, which meant that Gryffindor would have to win by that much to win the Quidditch Cup, something they hadn’t done since the legendary Charlie Weasley was at Hogwarts. No one was more determined to win than Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint, as this was the culmination of their contentious rivalry and the last shot for both of them to win the Cup before they graduated.

Flint had pulled out all the stops to ensure their victory, including outright practicing cheating. When Ursula refused, he yelled at her, threatening to throw her off the team. When she still refused to cheat outright, he relented, knowing that she was an important part of the team and without her their win was harder. Flint had them up at dawn to practice and well into the night. They even sacrificed lunch on Wednesday to squeeze in one more practice session.

Along with cheating, there had been an uptick in intimidation happening from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Many Slytherins were trying to catch Harry alone, but he was surrounded by an honor guard of chattering Gryffindors at all times, ensuring no harm could come to him before the match. Ursula was accompanied constantly by Cassius, under Flint’s orders, to protect her from nasty Gryffindors and nastier jinxes.

This was largely unnecessary, as Ursula proved she could hold her own and protect herself from jinxes, but Cassius was tall, muscular, and scary looking, so he worked just fine intimidating people. She and Draco were easily the smallest members of the team, which made them the most likely targets.

Never, in anyone’s memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the match arrived, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

The night before the match, the Slytheirn common room was dead silent except for Flint, who quizzed the team endlessly on the moves they had practiced and practiced and practiced. It was a relief when he told them all to go to bed.

The next morning, when the Slytherin team entered the Great Hall they were greeted by a great deal of cheering from their own table and a great deal of booing from the rest of the school. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had, predictably, sided with the Gryffindors which, in Ursula’s mind, only made the Slytherins nastier because they were treated like villains. Indeed, when the Gryffindor team entered to cheers from the other three tables, much of Slytherin made their boos and hisses heard as payback. Flint encouraged them all to eat, then ushered them down to the locker rooms before breakfast was over.

“This Cup is ours,” said Flint, pacing back and forth as they all pulled on their emerald green robes. “Right? This Cup is ours!”

A cheer went up around the room.

“Potter has his Firebolt, but all of us have better brooms than the rest of the Gryffindor team,” said Flint. “We’re going to go out there and crush Gryffindor! Right?”

They cheered again.

“Malfoy, whatever you do, do not let Potter catch the Snitch before you,” said Flint, pointing threateningly at Draco. “Follow him, cut him off, do  _ whatever it takes _ . Whatever it takes!” He shouted, earning him another cheer.

“Bole, Derrick, take out Potter and take out Wood,” said Flint, turning to the two beaters. “We’re gonna clobber them.”

Lucian and Peregrine gave shouts of agreement, knocking their clubs together.

“Alright Black, Pucey,” said Flint, stopping in front of his chasers. “Play like your lives depend on it, and do whatever it takes to win. Even if it means crashing into the Gryffindors, do whatever it takes to steal the Quaffle and score. Remember the moves we practiced.”

Adrian and Ursula high fived. Ursula felt adrenaline coursing through her veins as they geared up. She felt jittery, but she felt ready.

“Let’s go!” shouted Flint. “The Cup is ours!”

“And here are the Gryffindors!” yelled Lee Jordan. The Slytherins could hear him commentate as the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch amid earsplitting cheers. “Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —”

Lee’s comments were drowned by a tide of ‘boos’ from the Slytherin end.

“And here comes the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He seems to be going for size rather than skill —”

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Ursula suddenly felt very small as they walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch, greeted by cheers from their section of the stands and boos from the other three quarters of the school. She didn’t just feel small in the gigantic pitch, but compared to the other members of the Slytherin team, only Draco was her height. The rest of the boys were tall and broad and intimidating, so she did her best to wear her signature cool glare as they met the Gryffindor team in the middle of the pitch.

“Captains, shake hands!” said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other’s hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other’s fingers.

“Mount your brooms!” said Madam Hooch. “Three… two… one…”

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Ursula shot up at once, her braid slapping against her back as she took off after Alicia Spinnet, who was in possession of the Quaffle.

“And it’s Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia!”

Ursula dived, cutting so close to Alicia that they nearly collided and snatching the Quaffle from her hands. She wheeled around and shot back down the pitch.

“Quaffle intercepted by Black, Black of Slytherin tearing up the field — WHAM!”

A Bludger slammed into Ursula’s arm. She yelped, rolling on her broom, and fumbled for the ball — but she dropped the Quaffle. Cursing, she shot after Angelina Johnson, who was now in possession.

“Nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Black drops the Quaffle, it’s caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Pucey — duck, Angelina, that’s a Bludger — SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight —

“OUCH!”

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Flint went smashing angrily into her.

“Sorry!” said Flint as the crowd below booed. “Sorry, didn’t see her!”

But a moment later, Fred chucked his Beater’s club at the back of Flint’s head. Flint’s nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

“That will do!” shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. “Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!”

“Come off it, Miss!” howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

“Come on, Alicia!” yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. “YES! SHE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

Adrian’s stream of curses was lost in the roaring of the crowd. Flint, still bleeding freely, flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

“’Course, Wood’s a superb Keeper!” Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch’s whistle. “Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE’S SAVED IT!”

There were more shouts of disappointment from the Slytherin side as Wood saved the Quaffle and play resumed.

“Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she’s streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”

Adrian had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out again as she soared over to Adrian and began shouting at him. Adrian looked upset and not at all apologetic. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past Bletchley.

“THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —”

“Jordan, if you can’t commentate in an unbiased way —”

“I’m telling it like it is, Professor!”

Flint took a moment to yell at Bletchley. Harry Potter went speeding towards the Slytherin end, and Draco followed, thinking he had seen the Snitch.

“Bole! Derrick! Now!” shouted Flint.

Peregrine sent the first Bludger streaking past Harry’s ear, and Lucian followed up with a Bludger that grazed his elbow as the two beaters closed in. It was a dirty move, but it looked like it might work, as Peregrine and Lucian zoomed toward the Gryffindor seeker, clubs raised —

But Harry turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Lucian and Peregrine collided with a sickening crunch.

“Ha haaa!” yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. “Too bad, boys! You’ll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it’s Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!”

Flint passed quickly to Ursula, who feinted a throw to Adrian and then passed back to Flint. Flint scored and there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin side. Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

“Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won’t happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —”

It was without a doubt the dirtiest game of Quidditch any of them had ever played. Refusing to cheat, Ursula resorted to getting as close as she could to breaking the rules. This included flying straight at the Gryffindor chasers and changing direction at the last second, disrupting their formation everytime they tried, and stealing the Quaffle at the last second before they could enter the scoring area.

Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Lucian hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he’d thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Lucian in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and while Alicia scored again on Bletchley, Wood pulled off another save when Adrian took the shot, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

Katie Bell scored, bringing the score to fifty-ten and making Ursula curse foul enough to make Madam Tripe faint. Fred and George were swooping around Kaite, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Lucian and Peregrine took advantage of Fred and George’s absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself —

“YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!” she shrieked at Peregrine and Lucian. “Gryffindor penalty!”

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Adrian, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Even worse, it seemed that Harry had now spotted the Snitch and was speeding toward it, with Draco on his tail.

Draco was literally on Harry’s tail as he threw himself forward and grabbed hold of the Firebolt’s tail, pulling it back. In the commotion, the Snitch disappeared again.

“Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I’ve never seen such tactics.” Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

“YOU CHEATING SCUM!” Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall’s reach. “YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —”

Professor McGonagall didn’t even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy’s direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor’s penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Draco’s foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

Ursula caught the Quaffle and took off with it, weaving between Gryffindor’s chasers as she sped towards Wood. She had to roll on her broom to avoid a Bludger from Fred, but she maintained her grip on the Quaffle and kept flying.

“Slytheirn in possession, Slytherin heading for a goal — Black to Pucey — Pucey to Black — Black shoots, come on Wood — Black scores —” Lee groaned. “Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor.”

Draco and Harry flew side by side now, blocking each other at every turn.

“Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!”

Every single Slytherin player including Bletchley and Draco streaked up the pitch towards Angelina, intent on blocking her path as much as possible — and then out of nowhere Harry came zooming in on his Firebolt, scattering them all and leaving Angelina’s way clear.

“NO!” shouted Ursula, nearly slamming into Alicia in her frustration.

“SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!”

But Draco had seen the Snitch. And now Harry was halfway across the pitch and Draco was diving towards the ground where the Snitch fluttered just a few feet above the grass.

“Potter dives — Malfoy nears the switch — come on Harry, come on, show him what that Firebolt can do!” shouted Lee, as Harry dodged Lucian’s Bludger and brought himself neck and neck with Draco. “Harry, come on — he reaches, both hands are off the broom — COME ON HARRY!”

Harry pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded.

“GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR WINS TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO TWENTY! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters jumped over the barriers and flooded the field. There was little room for the Slytherins to land. Flint was cursing and waving his arms like a maniac. Peregrine, Lucian, and Bletchley all looked sullen. Adrian’s face was red as he shouted his anger. Ursula’s feet slammed hard into the ground as she landed, sore and winded and disappointed.

The Gryffindor team, led by Harry was borne towards the stands, where Professor Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

Ursula just headed back to the locker room, exhausted. Her shoulder ached from where the Bludger had hit it and she wanted a shower. The Gryffindors didn’t stop celebrating all day and likely all night, while the Slytherins sat bitterly in their common room. Flint was too angry to talk to any of them.

“It’s too bad we lost,” said Lilian. “But Flint can’t be mad at you.”

“Mind telling that to him?” said Ursula. Flint was dealing with the loss about as well as she’d expected him to, given Wood was his mortal enemy and all.

“Hey, you played well,” said Lilian. “But even I have to admit it was a dirty game.”

“Flint said to do whatever it takes,” said Adrian, dropping into a chair across from them. “So we did, and it wasn’t enough.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” said Ursula. Despite her disappointment, the corners of her lips quirked up into a smile. “I bet when Flint graduates he’ll make you captain.”

Adrian laughed tiredly.

“I wish,” he replied.


	53. OWLs

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived, but to the fifth years this meant only one thing: Their O.W.L.s were upon them at last.

With only two weeks until their exams and no more Quidditch to practice, the fifth years spent all of their free time studying for their OWLs. As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices concerning various Wizarding careers appeared on the tables in the Slytherin common room, along with yet another notice on the notice board, which read:

**CAREER ADVICE**

**All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting**

**with their Head of House, in which they will be given the**

**opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of**

**individual appointments are listed below.**

Ursula looked down the list at half past eleven on Tuesday, which was during her free period when Lilian had Muggle Studies. She and the other fifth years spent the rest of the afternoon poring over the pamphlets provided to see what interested them.

“Well, I don’t fancy Healing,” said Adrian. He was immersed in a leaflet that carried the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St. Mungo’s on its front. “It says here you need at least an E at NEWT level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean… blimey… Don’t want much, do they?”

“Well, it’s a very responsible job, isn’t it?” said Lilian absently. She was poring over a bright pink-and-orange leaflet that was headed  _ So You Think You’d Like to Work in Muggle Relations? _ “All they want is an OWL in Muggle Studies to work in Muggle relations… ‘ _ Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun! _ ’ To be honest, I’d quite like to work with Muggles.”

“Of course you would,” sneered Jacob.

“Well what do you want to do?” challenged Lilian. “If you want to critique my goals, can you prove yours are any better?”

Jacob went red and muttered something about working at the Ministry.

“What about you, Cassius?” said Lilian.

“Well, a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts sounds interesting,” said Cassius. “ _ ‘Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting CurseBreakers for thrilling opportunities abroad…’ _ the only problem is they want Arithmancy, which I didn’t take.”

“Anything else you like?” said Ursula. Cassius shrugged.

“I’d really like to work with Charms, but I don’t have any specific ideas,” he said. “My father wants me to work as an Auror or a Hit Wizard, though, and he said he’d get me a Ministry job… I wish he wouldn’t, to be honest.”

“Do you want to be a Hit Wizard?” said Adrian. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

Cassius nodded, looking unhappy.

“You only have to be seventeen, have five or more OWLs, including in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and not have a ‘nervous disposition,’” he said. “My father talked about having me join next summer.”

“I hate the idea of you out there in danger,” said Ursula.

“Well I hate the idea of you working with big, dangerous, fire-breathing dragons,” said Cassius. “But I know that won’t stop you.”

Ursula laughed.

“No it won’t,” she said. “I want to be a dragonologist more than anything.”

“It’s not very ladylike,” teased Vanessa, “but I know that won’t stop you either. Gemma, have you found anything that looks interesting?”

“I want to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” said Gemma, setting down a green pamphlet titled  _ Make a Bang at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes _ . “The Office of Law or the Trading Standards Body.”

“My, my, they’re not expecting a lot at all,” said Cassius sarcastically, observing the number of required OWLs. “But if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Gemma hmmed and buried her nose in another pamphlet, this one called  _ Can You Scribe for the Wizengamot? _ . Cassius turned to Adrian, who was tossing leaflets aside with abandon.

“What’d you pick?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” said Adrian. “My dream, of course, is to play Quidditch professionally. Outside of that, I could see working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports or the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. An Auror would be cool, but I don’t know how much I want to do it.”

“Well, Vanessa darling?” said Ursula. “You’re the last of us. Have you found anything that excites you yet?”

Vanessa blushed, shrugged, and mumbled something incomprehensible, looking down at her lap.

“What was that?” asked Ursula.

“I always thought, well, I’d be a wife, and that would be my job,” said Vanessa. “That’s what I’ve always been taught… that’s what my mother and the rest of my family did… and it’s kind of all I want.”

She sounded embarrassed, so Ursula patted her hand.

“Good for you,” she said. “Just because your dreams are different than ours, that doesn’t make them any less important. All that matters is that it’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” said Cassius. “And we won’t let anyone give you shit about it.”

The others quickly chimed in their agreement and Vanessa relaxed.

“I’m  _ not _ going to tell Professor Snape, though,” she said. “I’ll just make something up. A Healer, perhaps.”

“I guarantee he’s going to laugh at me when I say I want to work with Muggles,” huffed Lilian, tossing the pamphlets into a pile.

“Good luck,” said Ursula.

The following Monday, Lilian stormed into Care of Magical Creatures red-faced and upset. She was muttering the whole way about a certain ‘greasy, overgrown bat of a person who bloody well shouldn’t be a teacher.’

“I take it your career advice meeting did not go well?” said Ursula, as Hagrid began OWL review.

“He mocked me, alright,” snarled Lilian. “So I walked out and ran away.”

“Good call,” said Cassius, on Ursula’s other side, reaching around her to give Lilian a high five.

“You never told us how your session went,” said Lilian. Cassius grimaced.

“Professor Snape pretty much agreed with my father,” he said. “I spent twenty minutes faking enthusiasm for Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“I’m sure your father would let you do something else,” said Lilian, trying to be encouraging. “There has to be something you’re more interested in.”

Cassius shrugged.

“I hate seeing you like this,” said Ursula, nudging him with her shoulder. “Cheer up, Cass. We’ll help you find a way out of this, I promise.”

Ursula’s evaluation came the following day. She knocked on the door of Professor Snape’s office and waited for him to say, “Enter.”

“Good afternoon, Professor,” said Ursula, taking a seat in front of his desk, which was covered with a mountain of leaflets each detailing a different profession.

“Well, Ms. Black, this meeting is to discuss any career ideas you have in order to determine what you should take as a sixth and seventh year,” said Professor Snape. “What careers have you considered?”

“I want to be a dragonologist, sir,” said Ursula promptly.

“I see.” Professor Snape extracted a scarlet pamphlet with black text from the pile on his desk. He looked impassive, perhaps disdainful, at her career choice. “You will need a NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures, of course — an O would be preferred — and at least an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Also preferred are NEWTs in Transfiguration, Potions, and Herbology, but lacking one would not discount an applicant. Lacking two or all three, however, would seriously limit your prospects.”

“I understand, sir,” said Ursula.

“You applied to intern at the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary, did you not?” said Professor Snape. “Has your application been accepted?”

“It has, sir,” said Ursula.

“Magizoology experience is desirable,” said Professor Snape, examining the brochure. “A program such as this would be a preferable addition to your grades.”

“Am I on track to score well on my OWLs, Professor?” asked Ursula.

“Professor Flitwick has graded you between ‘Exceeds Expectations’ and ‘Outstanding’ for the last two years,” continued Professor Snape. “I see that Professor… Professor Lupin has thus far given you high marks. As for Care of Magical Creatures…”

Professor Snape withdrew a letter from his desk with large, blotchy handwriting.

“Professor, ah, Hagrid, submitted this note when I requested your grades,” he said distastefully. “He speaks most highly of you.”

Ursula said nothing. Inside she was very pleased and very thankful to Hagrid, but Professor Snape was already limiting his contempt at her chosen career path and she wasn’t about to push him further.

“As for your other classes, you have always exceeded in my class, unlike  _ some _ of your classmates,” continued Professor Snape contemptuously after a moment’s pause. “I expect you to score an O on your OWLs. You have been averaging an E in Herbology, and as for Transfiguration… Professor McGonagall submitted a piece of advice she requested I relay to you.”

Ursula could have giggled. She knew how Professor Snape feuded with Professor McGonagall.

“Professor McGonagall says that if you ever find yourself in want of a career, Transfiguration is a more than viable option,” said Professor Snape. “She says she would be, er, most pleased to relay your name to other Transfiguration experts or consider you for a position here. She also recommends that you continue studying Transfiguration after graduation if you… wish to be published.”

“I appreciate her advice,” said Ursula.

“Yes, well…” said Professor Snape. “You may return to your class, Miss Black.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ursula. Since she had a free period, she returned to the Slytherin Common Room and relayed her meeting to Adrian and Cassius. Later that day, Adrian had his meeting with Professor Snape, and he left with less clarity as to what his future held than he had had before.

Gemma and Vanessa both met with Professor Snape during their free period on Wednesday. Vanessa muddled through as best she could with noncommittal answers so she could leave his office as soon as possible, but Gemma’s meeting lasted twice as long, as she peppered Professor Snape with minute questions about the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Their teachers were no longer setting them homework; lessons were devoted to reviewing those topics their teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams. They received their examination schedules and details of the procedure for OWLs during their next Transfiguration lesson, the second to last one they would have before the exams themselves.

“As you can see,” Professor McGonagall told the class while they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard, “your O.W.L.s are spread over two successive weeks. You will sit the theory exams in the mornings and the practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night.”

At that point, Cassius yawned loudly. Professor McGonagall shot him a shrewd look, although the yawn was genuine; Ursula knew for a fact Cassius had stayed up studying until one in the morning last night.

“Now, I must warn you that the most stringent Anti-Cheating Charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall,” continued Professor McGonagall, “as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs, and Self-Correcting Ink. Every year, I am afraid to say, harbors at least one student who thinks that he or she can get around the Wizarding Examinations Authority’s rules.”

“Professor?” said Gemma, her hand in the air. “When will we find out our results?”

“An owl will be sent to you at the end of July,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Excellent,” said Adrian under his breath. “Once it’s over, we can forget about it for weeks…”

The last few days before their OWLs were filled with high anxiety among the fifth years and not much else. Half their year ended up having minor breakdowns. Tilly Brooks burst into tears during Ancient Runes, and Luca Bailey, Lewis Clarke, and Amelia Burton were all sent to the Hospital Wing for Calming Draughts during one History of Magic lesson. In Transfiguration, Benjamin Allen and Madeline Ormskirk were near tears, and even Gemma was nearing her breaking point during Arithmancy. Patricia Stimpson of Ravenclaw kept fainting at inopportune moments.

Kenneth Towler, the only idiot who still believed Ursula was in contact with Sirius Black, kept accusing her of helping him at random times, which was especially inconvenient when she was trying to study. This stopped when he mysteriously came out in boils two days before their OWLs were set to begin. It was soon discovered that Fred had put Bulbadox Powder in his pajamas, a fact Ursula uncovered when she went to warn them about the OWLs.

“I know you have something planned,” said Ursula, cornering them Saturday afternoon after lunch. “I don’t know what or when, but I must ask that it not take place during the tests themselves.”

“Of course not,” said Fred.

“Us? Disturb education? Never,” said George. Ursula raised an eyebrow.

“See that you don’t,” she said.

“Or what?” challenged Fred.

“You’ll put us in detention?” said George.

“Perhaps,” said Ursula. “But it’s Gemma you’ll have to answer to, and she’s been studying for the OWLs since before Christmas.”

Ursula pointed to where Gemma was reviewing with Vanessa. When she concentrated, the look on her face was rather frightening. The Weasley twins gulped.

“Understood,” they said together.

Blossom burst into tears during a Transfiguration review Saturday evening with Ursula, Cedric, and Cassius. After they comforted her, assuring her she was more than ready with all the time she’d devoted to studying for the Transfiguration OWL, they sent her off to Madam Pomfrey to get something for her nerves. Cassius left as well, to meet Rose Marwick for Prefect patrol.

“Are you ready for the OWLs?” asked Cedric, as he and Ursula packed up their bags.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” said Ursula. “What about you? Do you feel ready?”

“Yeah, I feel ready,” said Cedric. “Merlin knows we’ve studied enough. I’ll be thrilled when it’s summertime. I heard you have some pretty exciting summer plans.”

Ursula nodded.

“I was accepted into an internship at the thunderbird sanctuary where my dad works,” she said. “Since he’s a Scamander, he thinks working with animals runs in the family.”

“I’d say he’s right — wait, your dad’s a Scamander?” Cedric stopped in his tracks.

“Oops.” Ursula covered her mouth with her hand. “I forgot you didn’t know. My dad is Kenneth Scamander. He works in Arizona, in America.”

“That’s cool,” said Cedric. “I mean, I’d say he’s right about it running in the family. And I won’t tell anyone else, don’t worry, but that’s really cool.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula. “Have you had your career advice meeting yet?”

“Yeah, I met with Professor Sprout on Thursday,” said Cedric with a nod.

“Is there anything that strikes your fancy?” she asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Cedric. “I’d like to do something with Transfiguration, maybe even teach here at Hogwarts. I’m also interested in being a Healer so I can help people, or even opening a shop in Diagon Alley. I have no idea what I’d sell, though.”

“All of those sound lovely,” said Ursula.

“What about you?” said Cedric. “Wait, wait, let me guess: dragons.”

“You are correct,” said Ursula with a laugh. “Yes, I want to be a dragonologist more than anything. My family — my mother’s side — is less inclined to support me in that endeavor, but I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when it’s announced at graduation that I’m going to work with dragons.”

“I’d like to see that,” said Cedric, chuckling. “And I can see you’ve thought this through. Well, good luck on all your OWLs. One more day until they start, right?”

“One more day,” agreed Ursula. “Good luck to you too.”

He headed off across the Entrance Hall towards the stairs that led to the Hufflepuff Basement while Ursula hurried down, down, down to the Slytherin common room.

“Hey Lilian,” she called, crossing through the room full of studying fifth and seventh years.

“What’s up?” asked Lilian, following Ursula into her dorm so as not to disturb the other students hard at work.

“I remembered something your mum said about my mum,” said Ursula, “when I stayed at your house after second year. Do you remember when she said my mum would give flowers to all the kids taking their OWLs and NEWTs?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Lilian. “Are you saying you want to do that?”

“Why not?” said Ursula. “It would cheer everyone up and it would be easy! We learned the spell last year.”

“Okay!” said Lilian, getting excited now. “When do you want to do it?”

“Tomorrow,” said Ursula. “Tomorrow morning, that way everyone gets cheered up but we don’t distract anyone right before their exams.”

So the next morning, Ursula and Lilian strode into the Great Hall for breakfast with baskets filled with flowers on their arms, and they went around from table to table passing them out. One unfortunate soul who was allergic to the pollen still took the flower, happy to look at it from a safe distance. The colorful flowers brightened up the Great Hall, and on his insistence Ursula gave one to Professor Dumbledore as well, who declared it a beautiful day.

Though the flowers cheered everyone up, there was still work to do before their first exam, Theory of Charms, Monday morning. In the Slytherin common room, Cassius was reading through three years of Charms notes with his fingers in his ears, lips moving soundlessly. Adrian was lying flat on his back on the floor, reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm, while Lilian checked it against  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 _ . Vanessa was quizzing Gemma, but she kept halting mid question to share a fact she had just remembered.

Ursula spent the day reviewing the spells they had learned that year and those Professor Flitwick thought were most likely to come up in the exam. She practiced on her quill after a Banishing Charm sent her Arithmancy textbook straight into Cassius’s face, nearly breaking his nose.

Dinner that night was a subdued affair. The Slytherins did not talk much, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Gemma kept her nose buried in a book the whole meal, which she propped open against a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Lilian kept drawing runes in her mashed potatoes and muttering the translation out loud, and Cassius kept making it snow as he fiddled with his wand while practicing Charms. Adrian and Vanessa stayed silent, the former jittery and anxious, the latter still and meek. Ursula only realized she kept repeating Transfiguration spells when a small collection of rabbits stood where their goblets had a moment ago.

It was an uncomfortable sort of an evening. Everyone was trying to do some last-minute studying but nobody seemed to be getting very far. Ursula couldn’t get to sleep for two reasons. First, she was panicking about her impending OWLs. And second, Gemma was audibly talking in her sleep, droning on and on in a tone that could rival Professor Binns. It only stopped when Ursula whacked her with a pillow and she fell silent.

None of the fifth years talked very much at breakfast next morning either. Vanessa would only drink tea, no matter how much the others tried to get her to eat something else. Ursula had to take away the butter, the marmalade, and the knife from Cassius because every time he tried to butter his toast he nearly stabbed himself on accident.

Once breakfast was over, the fifth and seventh years milled around in the entrance hall while the other students went off to lessons. Then, at nine o’clock, the fifth years were sent back into the Great Hall while the seventh years went into a chamber off the hall. The four House tables had been removed and replaced instead with many tables for one, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor Flitwick stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet he said, “You may begin,” and turned over an enormous hourglass on the desk beside him, on which were also spare quills, ink bottles, and rolls of parchment.

Heart beating rapidly, Ursula turned over her paper. Three seats to her right and one row back, Gemma was already scribbling away. Quill in hand, she read the first question:  _ a) Give the incantation, and b) describe the wand movement needed to summon objects _ .

Ursula took a deep breath and, smiling a little to herself, began to write.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” said Cassius cheerfully as they returned to the entrance hall two hours later.

“I’m just not sure I did enough on Locomotion Charms,” said Gemma anxiously, still clutching the exam paper.

“I’m sure you did great,” said Lilian, cutting her off before she could recite the whole test.

“I’m starving,” said Adrian. “But we still have an hour before lunch. What time is the practical test?”

“One o’clock,” said Ursula. “Would you like to practice before then?”

“I would,” said Vanessa. Cassius and Gemma nodded fervently as well.

The Slytherin fifth years ran down the clock by reviewing as many charms as they could before lunch. The House tables reappeared in the Great Hall for lunch, and then at one o’clock they trooped off into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, switching places with the seventh years, whose practical examination would take place in the Hall itself. The fifth years waited anxiously to be called in to take the test alphabetically in groups of four. As small groups of students were called forward, those left behind muttered incantations and practiced wand movements, occasionally poking one another in the back or eye by mistake.

Blossom was in the first group, with Benjamin Allen, Luca Bailey, and Andrew Barker, and Ursula was in the second, with Edward Barnes, Elizabeth Barrett, and Tilly Brooks.

“Good luck,” whispered Lilian, as Ursula headed into the hall.

“Professor Marchbanks is free, Ms. Black,” squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing just inside the door. He pointed to a very short, elderly witch who Ursula recognized from a dinner the previous summer.

“Ah, Ms. Black,” said Professor Marchbanks, observing her shrewdly through thick spectacles. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes ma’am,” said Ursula, gripping her wand tightly.

“Excellent,” said Professor Marchbanks. “Please take this eggcup and have it do some cartwheels for me…”

On the whole, Ursula was rather pleased with herself. Her eggcup did a marvelous set of cartwheels, and her Levitation Charm on a set of wine glasses was excellent. She turned her ferret blue as instructed, and her Banishing Charm caused the book she was using to hit the cushion on target every time. As the fifth years didn’t return to the small chamber once the test was over, Ursula couldn’t return to wish her friends luck.

As it turned out, her friends didn’t need luck. Lilian and Gemma emerged grinning in triumph afterwards, and though Vanessa looked like a deer in headlights she said she felt good about her exam. Adrian had accidentally turned his eggcup into a candelabra, but he still managed to make it do cartwheels, and though Cassius had multiplied the toad he was working on, he had managed to make the toads sing in unison which, from his account, had made the examiner clap his hands excitedly.

There was no time to relax that night — they went straight to the common room after dinner and submerged themselves in studying for Transfiguration next day. Ursula went to bed, head buzzing with complex models and theories, and she had to employ her pillow once again to get Gemma to be quiet.

Ursula’s written exam couldn’t have gone better. She felt sure she had passed it, and spent the time between the end of the written exam and the practical portion studying with Blossom, who was freaking out.

“I’m gonna fail!” she wailed for the fourth time, despite Ursula’s insistence that her written test had gone well and her practical test would too.

“No, you’re not,” said Ursula. “What is the incantation for an owl to opera glasses?”

Blossom sniffled.

“ _ Strigiforma _ ?”

“Very good. And what does  _ Vera Verto _ do?”

“It turns animals into water goblets,” said Blossom.

“See?” said Ursula. “You’re ready for this. You’ve studied so hard, and you can do it. Let’s take your mind off it and talk about something else while we wait for the test to start, hmm?”

“Okay,” said Blossom slowly. “Er — Cedric and I went on a date on Saturday.”

“It’s the third date you’ve been on together, isn’t it?” said Ursula. Blossom giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s been really fun,” she said. “I really like him.”

“I’m happy for you,” said Ursula. “The two of you make a cute couple.”

“Thanks,” said Blossom. “What about you? It’s been a couple of months since you broke up with Lucian. Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

“No,” said Ursula. “But I don’t need to date anyone right now. The OWLs are so stressful, and then I’m going to America for a month, and dating for the sake of dating isn’t worth it.”

Blossom pouted.

“I still feel sad for you,” she said. “But as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

Just then, Professor McGonagall stepped into the hall and said, “Benjamin Allen, Blossom Ash, Luca Bailey, and Andrew Barker.”

Blossom squeaked and Ursula pushed her forward.

“Good luck!” she said. “You can do it!”

Blossom shot her a fleeting look of distress before she disappeared into the chamber to take her exam. Just a few minutes later, Professor McGonagall returned, calling, “Edward Barnes, Elizabeth Barrett, Ursula Black, and Tilly Brooks.”

Blossom and Luca were still taking their exam when the other four fifth years entered the room. There were six examiners, and Ursula was pointed to Professor Clements, a man who looked to be about her grandfather’s age and had shockingly white hair.

Ursula’s practical exam went terrific. She vanished a snake, turned a ferret into a footstool, made four dragons of varying sizes, and turned a guinea fowl into a guinea pig. Blossom’s exam was slow, but it seemed to be going well from across the room. At last, Ursula conjured a pincushion and turned it into a hedgehog, and Professor Clements beamed at her as he made a note on his clipboard.

“I must confess, Ms. Black, I was most anxious to meet you,” said Professor Clements. At Ursula’s look of surprise, he added, “Never fear, never fear, you’ve done well, very well, actually. I wanted to meet you because I read about you in  _ Transfiguration Today _ .”

Ursula blushed.

“You did, sir?” she asked.

“Oh yes, it was most impressive. Speaking of which,” said Professor Clements, leaning in a little. “Would you mind… demonstrating? For a bonus point?”

Ursula grinned.

“I’d be happy to,” she said. She took a step back from the table, stretched, and transformed into her Animagus.

There was a yelp from Elizabeth, who nearly dropped her water goblet, as Ursula put her furry black paws up on the table, waving her snout in the air. Professor Clements clapped gleefully as she transformed back into a person.

“Oh well done!” he said. “You may go, Ms. Black.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ursula. She left the hall beaming, feeling confident in her Transfiguration exam.

Ursula was much less confident about her Herbology exam on Wednesday, but she felt good about the written portion and thought the practical exam went about as well as she thought it would. Then, on Thursday, they had their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. Here, nearly all of the fifth years felt confident thanks to Professor Lupin’s teaching (“He’s the best teacher we’ve ever had,” said Cassius, to which the others vehemently agreed).

Thursday was also Draco’s birthday, so Ursula gave him a new quill, a pair of gloves for Quidditch, and a box of chocolate from Honeydukes.

Friday brought their Astronomy written exam in the morning. Ursula was confident that she had remembered all of Jupiter’s moons, and knew she had accurately described the stars in Orion’s Belt. Friday afternoon they had History of Magic, which was one long written test that left Ursula tired and her hand aching from all the writing.

The test consisted of questions like:  _ In your opinion, did wand legislation contribute to, or lead to better control of, goblin riots of the eighteenth century? _ and  _ How was the Statute of Secrecy breached in 1749 and what measures were introduced to prevent a recurrence? _ and  _ Describe the circumstances that led to the Formation of the International Confederation of Wizards and explain why the warlocks of Liechtenstein refused to join. _ All of those questions were ones Ursula could answer, but each required a rather lengthy and wordy explanation to do so.

She didn’t mind History of Magic, as boring as Professor Binns sometimes made it seem, and had been thinking about continuing on with it to NEWT level, something her grandfather Cygnus had always wanted her to do.

Friday night, the fifth years had their practical Astronomy exam — the seventh years would have their practical exam on Tuesday — so at midnight they all trekked up the Astronomy tower with their telescopes. It was a perfect night for stargazing, cloudless and still. The grounds were bathed in silvery moonlight, and there was a slight chill in the air.

“Ursula Black?” said the examiner, a short, plump woman named Professor Sabilline, when she handed Ursula her exam paper.

“Is there a problem, Professor?” said Ursula.

“No, no, none at all,” said Professor Sabilline. “It’s just — you look so much like your mother.”

Ursula didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected this.

“I was her Astronomy teacher, you know,” continued Professor Sabilline. “She and Kenneth Scamander were the only two students in NEWT Astronomy. They got on marvelously — always laughing, always working hard, and wonderfully bright, both of them. To tell you the truth, I always thought they might end up together. I was so dreadfully sad to hear that she died.”

“Professor?” said Ursula. She leaned in and lowered her voice a little. “Er… they  _ did _ end up together.”

Catching Ursula’s meaning perfectly, Professor Sabilline beamed up at her.

“I’m glad to hear it, dearie,” she said, patting Ursula’s hand.

Turning back to her telescope and empty star chart, Ursula found she couldn’t stop smiling as she copied down the  _ Ursa Major _ constellation. All was quiet except for the rustle of parchment, the occasional creak of a telescope as it was adjusted on its stand, and the scribbling of many quills. Half an hour passed, then an hour; the little squares of reflected gold light flickering on the ground below had long vanished, the lights in the windows of the castle having been extinguished, when Professor Sabilline called time half an hour later.

The Slytherins were nearly falling asleep as they trudged back down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, exhausted from three exams and nearly falling over as they continued to descend the winding stairs. The walk seemed even longer than usual, and Ursula was glad when she finally reached her dorm. So glad, in fact, that she just about fell into bed, and was instantly asleep…

They spent most of Saturday and Sunday studying for their Potions OWL on Monday, the practical portion of which was overseen by Professor Marchbanks. With Professor Snape absent from the proceedings, they all found it far easier to relax and focus. When Professor Marchbanks said, “Step away from your cauldrons, please. This exam is over,” Ursula corked her sample flask feeling satisfied and pleased with herself.

“Let’s see, there’s just five exams left,” said Lilian wearily, observing her exam timetable. “And all of us are only in two or three of those, so that’s good.”

“Only!” said Gemma snappishly. “I’ve got Arithmancy, and it’s practically the toughest subject there is!”

Nobody was foolish enough to snap back — indeed, they were all too tired — so they just picked up their books and went back to studying. Tuesday, only Lilian went up to the Great Hall for her Muggle Studies OWL. Cassius wondered aloud what the practical portion of the exam consisted of, and when Lilian returned before dinner, her eyes were bright and she seemed mighty pleased with herself.

Then, on Wednesday, Vanessa and Adrian went up to take their Divination OWL. Vanessa returned feeling fine, but Adrian was despairing.

“I was always going to fail that one, I suppose,” he said gloomily. He had just finished telling them in great detail how he had described a beak-nosed man in his crystal ball, only for it to be Professor Wigram’s reflection, then confused his tea leaves and told his examiner to expect a nasty rash tomorrow because of the five leaf clover in his cup that Adrian said might have also been the sun, and finally how he rounded off the whole fiasco by mixing up the lines on Professor Wigram’s palm and telling him his wife had died last week.

“At least you can give it up now,” said Cassius, flopping into the chair opposite Adrian. “Dropping it last year was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Thursday was a very difficult day, because Ursula had Arithmancy in the morning and Ancient Runes in the afternoon. Both were only written exams, but as a result both exams were three hours long and dreadfully difficult. She came out of Arithmancy feeling good, but knew she had mixed up some translations in Ancient Runes.

Their very last exam was Care of Magical Creatures on Friday. Ursula was determined to perform well, particularly in the practical portion of the exam.

The practical examination took place in the afternoon on the lawn on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where students were required to correctly identify the knarl hidden among a dozen hedgehogs (the trick was to offer them all milk in turn: knarls, highly suspicious creatures whose quills had many magical properties, generally went berserk at what they saw as an attempt to poison them); then demonstrate correct handling of a bowtruckle, feed and clean a fire-crab without sustaining serious burns, and choose, from a wide selection of food, the diet they would give a sick unicorn.

Ursula’s examiner was Professor Clements again, and when he smiled and told her she could leave, she winked at Hagrid, who was watching anxiously from the window of his hut, and headed back up to the castle feeling very satisfied with herself indeed.

Now that their OWLs were over, the fifth years could sit back, relax, and enjoy their last week of school. Ursula did just that, spending her time visiting Buckbeak, whose execution date was set in stone, to make sure his last few days were as nice as possible. She also prepared for her trip and got some of her packing done early, then joined her friends on the front lawn to enjoy the lovely weather. All seemed calm and fairly normal, as Ursula and Cedric set out for prefect patrol Thursday night.

That is, until Sirius Black showed up.


	54. The Not-so-secret Secret

In the last few days of school, Ursula spent a lot of time visiting Buckbeak — and Starkfeather — and trying to say goodbye to the former. The appeal to save Buckbeak was Thursday afternoon, but the dozens of letters Ursula had sent to Lucius had fallen on deaf and rather angry ears, and Ursula wasn’t feeling very hopeful.

Ursula was in the library that evening, returning all the books she had checked out to study for her OWLs with, when she received Hagrid’s note. It was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

_ Lost appeal. They’re going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down. I don’t want you to see it. _

_ Hagrid _

“I don’t believe this,” hissed Ursula. She slammed her books down on the table, earning a glare from Madam Pince.

“What is it?” said Cassius, leaning over her shoulder to read the note.

“Hagrid lost his appeal and Buckbeak’s going to be executed at sundown,” she said. Vanessa gasped.

“No offense, but I thought it was already decided,” said Adrian, reading the note for himself.

“It practically was, but I was holding out hope that he might win the appeal,” said Ursula. “I still can’t believe it’s gone this far… I’m going down to see him.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” said Cassius. Ursula shook her head.

“No, no,” she said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Ursula stalked out of the library, down to the Entrance Hall, and out the front doors onto the front lawn. She didn’t have time to knock on the door of Hagrid’s hut before Hagrid threw it open with a great sob, his black eyes bloodshot.

“I thought yeh’d come,” he said. “Fudge an’ Macnair, the… the executioner —” Hagrid blew his nose in his handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. “— they’ll be back at sundown. Dumbledore’s gonna come down while it — while it happens.”

“I’m sorry, Hagrid,” said Ursula.

“It’s not yer fault,” said Hagrid. “Yeh helped as much as yeh could… even Dumbledore couldn’t o’ overruled the Committee. Yeh know what yer uncle’s like… he scared em, I ‘spect.”

“I wrote to my uncle to try to talk him out of it,” said Ursula. “I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Thank yeh for tryin’ anyway,” said Hagrid.

“Where’s Buckbeak?” said Ursula. “I thought I’d say — I thought I’d come see him.”

“I — I took him outside,” said Hagrid. “He’s tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an’ — an’ smell fresh air — before —”

“That was nice of you,” said Ursula. Hagrid blew his nose again and waved a massive hand towards the pumpkin patch before going back into his hut.

Ursula picked her way through the pumpkin patch, where Buckbeak was tethered to a tree just behind the patch. He watched her with his bright orange eyes and seemed restless, as if he knew something was wrong. Ursula picked up a dead ferret from the stack nearby and fed it to Buckbeak after she bowed to him.

“Good boy,” she whispered, stroking his grey feathers. Buckbeak nickered. “What a beautiful, strong Hippogriff you are.”

Ursula stayed with him until dinnertime, playing catch with small pumpkins and petting his soft feathers. At last she bid him one final goodbye, giving his beak a pat and trying not to cry, and hurried back up to the castle. She heard Buckbeak caw after her, and she turned around to wave, as if she’d be back the next day.

She was in a foul mood all through dinner, deeply unhappy about Buckbeak’s fate. Ursula was tempted to have another row with Draco about it, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Hagrid had expressly forbidden her to come to Buckbeak’s execution, but Ursula couldn’t take her mind off it. She left for prefect patrol with Cedric wearing a perpetual frown.

“Hey,” said Cedric, meeting her in the Entrance Hall. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Hagrid lost his appeal, and Buckbeak is supposed to be executed at sunset,” said Ursula. “Sorry that that’s grim.”

“Not as sorry as I am that Hagrid lost,” said Cedric. “I know how hard you worked to help him.”

“It’s just so stupid,” said Ursula. “The execution, the trial, all of it — it’s pointless, stupid, and wasteful.”

“It’s awful,” agreed Cedric, as they headed upstairs towards the Charms corridor.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” said Ursula. She would spend enough time tonight feeling sad and guilty. There was no sense in dragging someone else into her wallowing. “Especially since there’s nothing I can do about it now. Er — how did your OWLs go?”

“Good, I think,” said Cedric, shrugging. “Ancient Runes and Arithmancy were hard, and I’m rubbish at History of Magic.”

“There’s not a subject at Hogwarts you could be rubbish at,” said Ursula. “You’re good at History of Magic, just like you’re good at everything. Don’t look at me like that; you’re too humble for your own good.”

“Well you’re the same way,” said Cedric. “Don’t tell me you didn’t ace all your exams.”

“Not a chance,” said Ursula. “At least we don’t have to go into another studying frenzy until seventh year.”

“I can’t wait,” joked Cedric. “What time is it?”

“About nine thirty, I think,” said Ursula.

“Guess that means we should probably split up pretty soon,” said Cedric. “I’ll do the upper floors this time and you can do the lower floors, I guess?”

“Sounds good,” said Ursula. “I’ll walk up to the fourth floor with you, though. I wanted to hear about your date with Blossom on Saturday.”

Even in the dim corridor, Ursula could tell that Cedric was beaming.

“Oh, it was marvelous,” he said. “We had so much fun. She’s so fun to be around, so bright and bubbly, it’s just fantastic.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Ursula. “Did you go to Madam Puddifoot’s or stick with the Three Broomsticks?”

“The Three Broomsticks, this time,” said Cedric. “We’ve been to Madam Puddifoot’s once, but it just made us both laugh. I don’t know why.”

Ursula giggled.

“I guess the haunt of happy couples was just too much for you,” she teased.

“Maybe next year we’ll go back,” said Cedric. “We’ve made plans to see each other over the summer.”

“That’s nice,” said Ursula. “I heard the Quidditch World Cup is happening in England this year. Will you be going?”

“Probably,” said Cedric. “I hope so, at least. My dad is more into Quidditch than I am.”

“Perhaps we’ll run into each other there,” said Ursula. They reached the fourth floor, and Ursula turned to head back downstairs to keep patrolling. “Do you know who else is patrolling tonight?”

“I think it’s Robert Hilliard and Charlotte Johnson,” said Cedric. “They usually patrol alone, so we’ll both probably run into at least one of them.”

“Great, thanks,” said Ursula, taking a few steps down the stairs.

“I really am sorry about Buckbeak,” said Cedric.

“I know,” said Ursula, “and I appreciate it.”

She could hear Cedric’s footsteps retreating on the fourth floor, and other than her own footsteps on the stairs the castle was silent. Ursula worked her way through the lower floors, indeed passing Robert Hilliard. She told off a pair of errant third year Ravenclaws for being out after their curfew, and warned a sixth year Gryffindor that she had less than fifteen minutes before she was due back in her common room.

As Ursula passed a window, she saw dusk had fallen and stars were beginning to dot the sky. She could have sworn she saw someone headed towards the Shrieking Shack, but in the darkness she couldn’t tell. The full moon was obscured by clouds.

The minutes ticked slowly by as Ursula walked through the empty, quiet castle. As she passed another window, she saw the clouds shift, and gazed out at the full moon that bathed the castle grounds in moonlight. But as she looked out the window, she saw the werewolf transform as well.

Of course Professor Lupin was a werewolf. Ursula and the others had figured it out well before Christmas, but he was such a good teacher they didn’t care. But loose on the grounds? And who was that with him?

Before Ursula could fully reckon with what she was doing, she was already in the Entrance Hall, then already out the great oak front doors. Ursula was running, at some point changing from human to bear, her strides growing longer and faster as her paws pounded against the ground. She was running towards Professor Lupin, towards the three students cowering away from him and the seemingly unconscious Potions professor, towards Sirius Black, her cousin, who transformed into a great black dog before her very eyes.

The werewolf and the rather bearlike dog collided, locked jaw to jaw with their claws ripping at one another. Now Ursula could see, with her improved night vision, the students: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. There was a fourth figure, a short, squat nearly bald man who dove for Professor Lupin’s wand. With a bang, Ron fell, and then a ginger cat with clear Kneazle blood did too. The man transformed into something small, like a rabbit or a rat, and then disappeared into the grass, and into the night.

There was a yelp from Sirius as Professor Lupin tossed him aside, rearing and snapping his long jaws as he advanced on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Before Sirius could recover, Ursula leapt, over his head and into the path of the werewolf, rearing on her own hind legs and crashing into him.

Ursula and the werewolf tumbled across the ground as a scream sounded from behind her. The werewolf dug his claws into her thick fur, but he couldn’t get a grip with his jaws, his sharp teeth snapping dangerously close to her ears. Saying a silent apology to Professor Lupin, Ursula dug her sharp claws in and bit his shoulder, making the werewolf howl in agony.

Sirius tried to rejoin the fight, but Ursula shouldered him out of the way and tackled Professor Lupin, who howled and clawed her across the face in retaliation. Ursula vaguely remembered that animals weren’t susceptible to werewolf bites, for which she was immensely grateful. Just as she growled and pinned the werewolf to the ground, a howl echoed from the Forbidden Forest.

Professor Lupin struggled under her paws and Ursula let him up, growling ferociously as he took off after the howl. She followed to make sure he didn’t go back to the others, and Sirius followed her. Ursula slowed as she neared the Forbidden Forest, coming to a halt when she beheld Buckbeak, very much alive, rearing as Professor Lupin ran past him and Sirius followed. And behind Buckbeak, there was Harry and Hermione. How did they get there? She could still see them up on the hill. And how was Buckbeak still alive?

Suddenly, she understood. But how would they get —

And then Ursula was running. Her paws thumped on the ground as she bounded back to the castle, past where Harry, Ron, and Hermione still stood with an unconscious Professor Snape, past the Whomping Willow, and towards the great oak front doors. How long did she have?

Soon her claws were clicking on stone, and she was at the castle doors, back in human form. Ursula was faintly aware of something sticky on the side of her forehead. Blood. Excellent. It was an excuse to visit the Hospital Wing.

Ursula hurried into the nearest bathroom to quickly wash off the blood — in the mirror she saw several bruises and a scratch or two on her neck and arms, plus the gash on her forehead, but nothing too bad. Good. She didn’t want to attract attention in the common room.

She headed down the winding stairs into the dungeons, thankfully finding the Slytheirn common room all but deserted, and headed straight to her dorm.

“Is your patrol over already?” said Gemma from her four poster bed, not looking over at Ursula. Lazily, she turned another page in the book she was absorbed in.

“Just about,” said Ursula, her back to Gemma as she rummaged through her trunk. “I’m feeling a bit queasy so I may visit the Hospital Wing.”

“Oh. Feel better,” said Gemma. Ursula was glad she was only half listening. It kept her from asking too many questions.

“Thanks,” replied Ursula, leaving the room with a bundle clutched to her chest.

~~~

“What happened to you?” huffed Madam Pomfrey as she checked out the injury on the side of Ursula’s head.

“I fell while on patrol,” said Ursula, “and I hit my head.”

“Got clawed, more like,” scoffed Madam Pomfrey. She clucked her tongue. “I can mend it in a trice, but I’m going to keep you overnight just in case. There’s no sense in sending you back out on patrol now.”

Ursula nodded. Madam Pomfrey healed the wound with a wave of her wand, then tapped each of the scratches and bruises and did the same. She handed Ursula a potion for her headache, and after drinking it Ursula changed into the pajamas she had brought from her dorm and climbed into bed, setting the device she had brought from her dorm on her bedside table, the device she only had at school in case her house was searched again, the device dangerous enough that she felt a little crazy leaving it out in the open. No sooner had she rolled onto her side, pretending to be asleep, when she heard the door burst open and footsteps rush in.

“Oh my!” she heard Madam Pomfrey say.

The gist of the conversation that followed made it clear that at some point Professor Snape had come to, and had now brought Harry, Ron, and Hermione — who seemed to be unconscious, from what Ursula could gather — to the Hospital Wing. The door opened again as Professor Snape left, and when he returned Ursula could make out his voice along with that of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, who must still be here after Buckbeak’s execution. Or what was supposed to be his execution. Ursula hadn’t figured out quite what had happened there yet, but if it meant Buckbeak was alive she was glad.

“Ah, you’re awake!” said Madam Pomfrey, her voice brisk. Ursula had to strain to hear Professor Snape and Fudge talk just outside of the Hospital Wing. With a small crack, Madam Pomfrey began to break apart the block of chocolate she had been carrying.

“How’s Ron?” said Harry and Hermione together.

“He’ll live,” said Madam Pomfrey grimly. “As for you two, you’ll be staying here until I’m satisfied you’re — Potter, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I need to see the headmaster,” he said.

“Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, “it’s all right. They’ve got Black. He’s locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now —”

“WHAT?”

Had Ursula not been feigning sleep and ignorance about the whole affair, she would’ve had a similar reaction. Granted, she still didn’t know for sure that Sirius was innocent, but if Harry had this reaction to the news that he had been caught, that must mean something. The door to the Hospital Wing opened, and in strode Fudge and Professor Snape, likely brought in by Harry’s exclamation.

“Harry, Harry, what’s this?” said Fudge, looking agitated. “You should be in bed — has he had any chocolate?”

“Minister, listen!” Harry said. “Sirius Black’s innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can’t let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he’s —”

“Harry, Harry, you’re very confused, you’ve been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we’ve got everything under control…”

“YOU HAVEN’T!” Harry yelled. It was ridiculous to expect Ursula to sleep through all of this, but not wanting to draw attention to herself she stayed still and silent. “YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!”

“Minister, listen, please,” Hermione said. It sounded like both she and Harry were out of bed. “I saw him too. It was Ron’s rat, he’s an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —”

“You see, Minister?” said Professor Snape. “Confunded, both of them… Black’s done a very good job on them…”

“WE’RE NOT CONFUNDED!” Harry roared.

“Minister! Professor!” said Madam Pomfrey angrily. “I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!”

“I’m not distressed, I’m trying to tell them what happened!” Harry said furiously. “If they’d just listen —”

The next thing Ursula heard was a great choking sound. She chanced a look, seeing that Madam Pomfrey had stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry’s mouth and forced him back onto the bed.

“Now, please, Minister, these children need care, and I have another patient who needs sleep. Please leave,” said Madam Pomfrey. Ursula, as the patient who needed sleep, quickly turned her head back the other direction, just as the door to the Hospital Wing opened again.

“Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —”

Ah, so Professor Dumbledore had arrived. Ursula found this all highly interesting.

“For heaven’s sake!” said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. “Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —”

“My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger,” said Professor Dumbledore calmly. “I have just been talking to Sirius Black —”

“I suppose he’s told you the same fairy tale he’s planted in Potter’s mind?” spat Professor Snape. “Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —”

“That, indeed, is Black’s story,” said Professor Dumbledore.

“And does my evidence count for nothing?” snarled Professor Snape. “Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds.”

“That was because you were knocked out, Professor!” said Hermione earnestly. “You didn’t arrive in time to hear.”

Who was Peter Pettigrew? Was he the man Ursula had seen transform? How did Professor Snape get knocked out?

“Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!”

“Now, Snape,” said Fudge, sounding startled, “the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances —”

“I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone,” said Professor Dumbledore abruptly. “Cornelius, Severus, Poppy — please leave us.”

“Headmaster!” sputtered Madam Pomfrey. “They need treatment, they need rest —”

“This cannot wait,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I must insist.”

Madam Pomfrey strode through Ursula’s line of vision, slamming the door of her office behind her.

“The Dementors should have arrived by now,” Ursula heard Fudge say. “I’ll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I’ll see you upstairs.”

Ursula gathered that Professor Snape hadn’t moved, and she had to listen very hard to what he said next.

“You surely don’t believe a word of Black’s story?” said Professor Snape in a whisper.

“I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone,” Professor Dumbledore repeated. Professor Snape’s reply was lost due to a snore from Ron in the bed to her left, but then Professor Dumbledore said, “My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus.”

No sooner had the door closed behind Professor Snape than both Harry and Hermione began to talk.

“Professor, Black’s telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew — he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf —”

“— he’s a rat —”

“— Pettigrew’s front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off —”

“— Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn’t Sirius —”

“It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly, as if he knew Ursula was listening. “There is not a shred of proof to support Black’s story, except your word — and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper.”

“Professor Lupin can tell you —” burst out Harry.

“Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends —”

“But —”

“Listen to me, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore, his voice grave. “It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape’s version of events is far more convincing than yours.”

“He hates Sirius,” said Hermione with a note of desparation. “All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him —”

“Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius’s sentence.”

“But you believe us.”

“Yes, I do,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly. “But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic…”

So Sirius was innocent. And it was this Pettigrew fellow who was to blame. The name sounded so familiar, but Ursula just couldn’t place it…

“What we need,” said Professor Dumbledore slowly, “is more time.”

“But —” Hermione began. “OH!”

“Now, pay attention,” said Professor Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. “Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake… You — must — not — be —seen.”

“But where —?” said Hermione.

“You needn’t leave this room,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I am going to lock you in. Three turns should do it.”

Harry and Hermione were silent as Professor Dumbledore’s footsteps faded. A lock clicked in the door to the Hospital Wing.

“What —” began Harry, but Hermione’s gasp told Ursula she had seen what waited for them on Ursula’s bedside table.

A few quick steps, then a pair of hesitant ones. Ursula slowed her breathing to feign sleep more convincingly, and when she next opened her eyes, her Time-Turner was gone.

~~~

“We’ve got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we’re missing…” said Hermione, as they watched Professor Snape conjure stretchers to carry the limp forms of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Black onto them.

They waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to them whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.

“Do you reckon he’s up there yet?” said Harry, checking his watch. He looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

“Look!” Hermione whispered. “Who’s that? Someone’s coming back out of the castle!”

Harry stared through the darkness. The man was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in his belt.

“Macnair!” said Harry. “The executioner! He’s gone to get the Dementors! This is it, Hermione —”

Hermione put her hands on Buckbeak’s back and Harry gave her a leg up. Then he placed his foot on one of the lower branches of the bush and climbed up in front of her. He pulled Buckbeak’s rope back over his neck and tied it to the other side of his collar like reins.

“Ready?” he whispered to Hermione. “You’d better hold on to me —”

He nudged Buckbeak’s sides with his heels. Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. Harry gripped his flanks with his knees, feeling the great wings rising powerfully beneath them. Hermione was holding Harry very tight around the waist; he could hear her muttering, “Oh, no — I don’t like this oh, I really don’t like this —”

Harry urged Buckbeak forward. They were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle… Harry pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned. Harry was trying to count the windows flashing past —

“Whoa!” he said, pulling backward as hard as he could.

Buckbeak slowed down and they found themselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that they kept rising up and down several feet as the Hippogriff beat his wings to remain airborne.

“He’s there!” Harry said, spotting Sirius as they rose up beside the window. He reached out, and as Buckbeak’s wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

Black looked up. Harry saw his jaw drop. He leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

“Stand back!” Hermione called to him, and she took out her wand, still gripping the back of Harry’s robes with her left hand.

“ _ Alohomora _ !”

The window sprang open.

“How — how —?” said Black weakly, staring at the Hippogriff.

“Get on — there’s not much time,” said Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. “You’ve got to get out of here — the Dementors are coming — Macnair’s gone to get them.”

Black placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak’s back and pull himself onto the Hippogriff behind Hermione.

“Okay, Buckbeak, up!” said Harry, shaking the rope. “Up to the tower — come on.”

The Hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry and Hermione slid off him at once.

“Sirius, you’d better go, quick,” Harry panted. “They’ll reach Flitwick’s office any moment, they’ll find out you’re gone.”

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

“What happened to the other boy? Ron?” croaked Sirius.

“He’s going to be okay. He’s still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she’ll be able to make him better. Quick — go —”

“Thank Ursula Black for me, will you?” said Sirius.

“Why?” said Harry, bewildered.

“Of course!” said Hermione. “She was the bear! And she had the time turner!”

“How’d she know you were innocent?” asked Harry.

“I don’t think she did,” said Sirius. “How can I ever thank you —”

“GO!” Harry and Hermione shouted together.

Black wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

“We’ll see each other again,” he said. “You are — truly your father’s son, Harry…”

He squeezed Buckbeak’s sides with his heels. Harry and Hermione jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more… The Hippogriff took off into the air… He and his rider became smaller and smaller as Harry gazed after them… then a cloud drifted across the moon… They were gone.

~~~

Barely a minute had passed since Harry and Hermione had taken Ursula’s Time-Turner, then they came running triumphantly into the Hospital Wing. Hermione carefully replaced it on Ursula’s bedside table, then crept back to their own beds just as Madam Pomfrey came striding back out of her office.

“Did I hear the headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?”

There were no more arguments, and the near silence that followed as she fed Harry and Hermione chocolate meant it was very easy to hear the distant roar of fury that echoed somewhere above them.

“What was that?” said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Ursula risked rolling over to face the door, eyes closed to appear asleep, quickly grabbing her Time-Turner and tucking it out of sight under her bedsheet.

“Really — they’ll wake everybody up! What do they think they’re doing?”

“He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —”

“HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Professor Snape roared, now very close at hand. “YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!”

“Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —”

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open. Ursula flinched a little, then tried very hard to school her face into serene sleep, despite the voices loud enough to wake the dead that stormed into the Hospital Wing.

Fudge, Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Professor Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry, but Professor Snape was beside himself.

“OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“Professor Snape!” shrieked Madam Pomfrey. “Control yourself!”

“See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —”

“THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Professor Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

“Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Professor Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —”

“That will do, Severus,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly. “Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?”

“Of course not!” said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. “I would have heard them!”

“Well, there you have it, Severus,” said Professor Dumbledore calmly. “Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.”

Professor Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Professor Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Professor Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

“Fellow seems quite unbalanced,” said Fudge, staring after him. “I’d watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore.”

“Oh, he’s not unbalanced,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly. “He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

“He’s not the only one!” puffed Fudge. “The Daily Prophet’s going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff’s escape to get out, and I’ll be a laughingstock! Well… I’d better go and notify the Ministry…”

“And the Dementors?” said Professor Dumbledore. “They’ll be removed from the school, I trust?”

“Oh yes, they’ll have to go,” said Fudge. For Ursula, that was an unexpected bonus. “Never dreamed they’d attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy… Completely out of control… no, I’ll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight… Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…”

Dragons was another bonus. Ursula would love that.

“Hagrid would like that,” said Professor Dumbledore. As he and Fudge left the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

Ursula was finally able to get to sleep, even as Ron woke up. She was still trying to piece together the whole story of what happened to Sirius Black, and there were a lot of things to consider. She fell asleep with her head swimming with information, information about traitorous rats and werewolf teachers and falsely imprisoned convicts, and she woke up the next morning well rested.

“Good morning,” said Ursula, sliding into a seat between Lilian and Adrian at breakfast.

“Morning,” said Cassius with a yawn, nearly spilling the pitcher of orange juice as he reached for the maple syrup.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” said Lilian.

“Have you heard the news?” said Adrian.

“About what?” asked Ursula, keeping her face carefully neutral as she spooned fruit onto her plate.

“Black escaped again last night,” said Adrian. “And that Hippogriff, Buckbeak, he escaped too.”

“I can’t say I’m not thrilled to hear that,” said Ursula. “The part about Buckbeak, at least.”

“No one knows how Black did it,” said Lilian. “And —”

“Ursula! Did you hear?” Draco came running up to her. “Snape’s just told us!”

“What is it, Draco?” said Ursula.

“Lupin’s a werewolf!” said Draco, failing to contain his glee and smugness.

“Is he?” said Ursula, doing her best to feign surprise.

“I had no idea,” said Cassius, trying and failing to do the same. Lilian kicked him under the table.

“I… can’t believe it,” said Adrian.

“I always knew there was something wrong with him,” continued Draco. “He’s a filthy halfbreed and all —”

“That’s enough, Draco,” said Ursula sharply. Draco shrugged and went back to his friends. Down the table, they could see Professor Snape spreading the news with a vindictive grin.

“I mean, it’s not like we all didn’t know,” said Lilian. “But I still can’t believe Snape just told everyone. It’s an awful thing to do, and now Professor Lupin’s leaving.”

“They had a rivalry at school, I believe,” said Ursula. “But it’s still inexcusable, and I can’t imagine jobs are very easy to come by as a werewolf.”

“Lilian’s right, though,” said Cassius. “I mean, we did all know. Vanessa? Gemma?”

“Oh, we knew,” said Gemma dryly. “It’s a shame we’re losing the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had.”

“I think most of the school knew,” said Adrian. “Maybe not the younger students, but everyone fourth or fifth year or above, I guarantee.”

“Oh, absolutely,” agreed Ursula. “When did we figure it out? Before Christmas?”

“November, I think,” said Vanessa.

“Exactly, and see how none of us mentioned it?” said Ursula. “It’s very petty of Professor Snape to bring it up now, especially if it’s going to cost Professor Lupin his job.”

“He  _ could _ stay,” said Cassius. “He is the one resigning.”

“But by this time tomorrow, before we even get on the train, no doubt he’ll be flooded with owls from concerned parents who don’t care what their kids think about him,” said Adrian. “It’s probably easier to leave this way rather than be forced out.”

“It is still unfair,” said Ursula. “I think I’ll go see Professor Lupin before he leaves.”

There were no objections, so she left the Great Hall and headed up to the second floor. She knocked on the door to his office and waited until he said, “Enter,” to open the door.

“Ah, Ms. Black, what can I do for you?” said Professor Lupin as Ursula entered the office. He had already packed most of his things, and his battered old suitcase was open and nearly full.

“I heard you are resigning,” said Ursula. “We’ll all be sad to see you go.”

“I’ll confess, I’m sad to go,” said Professor Lupin, with a small smile.

“Er — I’m sorry about last night,” said Ursula. “Clawing you, I mean.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” said Professor Lupin. “It’s not very professional to go on a rampage across the grounds as a werewolf, is it?”

“I wouldn’t call it a rampage,” said Ursula.

“If I may, Ms. Black, how did you know Sirius was innocent?” asked Professor Lupin.

“I didn’t,” replied Ursula. “Truly, I didn’t. But I had my doubts about his guilt, and I figured he needed all the help he could get against a werewolf, if you pardon.”

Professor Lupin laughed.

“Loyalty seems to be a common trait in the Black family,” he said. “But as your teacher, I must caution you against running into fights between werewolves and murderous convicts who may or may not be guilty in the future.”

Before Ursula could reply, Harry appeared at the door.

“I just saw Hagrid,” he said. “And he said you’d resigned. Is that true?”

“I’m afraid it is,” said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry.

“I think I’ll let you two talk,” said Ursula. But Harry turned to face her before she could leave.

“Were you really the bear?” he asked. “And why did you have a Time-Turner?”

“Perhaps,” said Ursula, a smile tugging at her lips, “and it’s a long story. Why don’t you ask Sirius Black? Goodbye, Professor Lupin.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Black,” said Professor Lupin. Ursula grinned at him and Harry and left.

Ursula found her friends in the Slytherin common room, attempting to pack before tomorrow, when they would take the train back to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters and go home for the summer. Or, in Ursula’s case, set off for an adventure in America.

“Well,” said Cassius, surveying his unusually neatly packed trunk. “Another year done, I suppose.”

“It was a good year,” said Ursula, leaning in the doorway.

“Write to us while you’re in America, won’t you?” said Lilian.

“Of course,” said Ursula. “And when I get back, and we’ve all aced our OWLs, I’ll have a party at Corvus Manor. How does that sound?”

“Marvelous,” said Cassius. “Simply marvelous.”

“Then it’s all settled,” said Ursula. “I’m going to miss y’all while I’m away.”

“And we’ll miss you too!” said Adrian. “Let’s all try and go to the Quidditch World Cup if we can, hmm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Lilian.

“This was a good year, though, wasn’t it?” said Vanessa.

“You’re so sentimental,” teased Cassius. Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“Don’t act like you aren’t just as sentimental as I am,” she shot back good-naturedly.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Cassius. He closed his trunk and gave it a good kick to make sure the lid was closed. “All done.”

“Come on,” said Lilian. “It’s a beautiful day, and we should enjoy it in the sun.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Ursula, and the five friends headed up out of the dungeons and onto the sunny front lawn, where Fred and George were playing with the giant squid, who waved its tentacles lazily above the water. They sat down on the sandy shore and basked in the sun and spray from the lake.

“You were right, Lilian,” said Adrian.

“Aren’t I always?” said Lilian.

“No,” said Cassius. Lilian playfully hit his arm. “Ow!”

“But you are right this time, Lils,” said Ursula. “It’s a lovely day.”


	55. The Internship: Part One

“Welcome, all of you, to the 1994 Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary Internship Program,” said Amelia Kelley. “I am Amelia Kelley, the director of the program. You can call me Amelia. Over the next four weeks, we at the sanctuary hope to give you meaningful, hands-on experience dealing with some of wizardkind’s most beautiful creatures.”

Ursula and the other interns stood under the awning of a wide building that housed everything from the paperwork side of the sanctuary to extra tools. Their suitcases sat at their feet as they listened to Amelia talk, and all six fanned themselves with the brochure they had been given as a way to fight the sweltering heat.

It being the third of July and all, it was Ken and Tony’s one year anniversary, and Ursula had gotten to have breakfast with them at Tony’s house. Well, they both lived there, so it wasn’t just Tony’s house. She wished she could’ve stayed to see them longer, but she had an internship to get to.

Aside from Ursula, there were two other girls. One was short, bubbly, and reminded her strongly of Blossom, the image aided by the way she rocked back and forth on her heels and smiled from ear to ear. The other was slender, proud, about Ursula’s height, and looked excited to be there, although she had cast Ursula a dark glare when they first arrived. Then there were three boys, two of whom seemed to be becoming friends with one another already. She was, of course, the only non-American there.

“In this internship you will be taught and tested on how to house, feed, nurse, interact with, and approach a thunderbird,” continued Amelia. “We don’t expect you to know everything or be good at everything right away, however we do expect you to work hard and learn from your mistakes. You have all received the information packets about the program. Are there any immediate questions?”

None of them had any. The information packet was a thick and informative stack of papers, and mostly they were all just excited to get started.

“Very well,” said Amelia. “Then if you’ll all follow me, I will show you where you’ll be sleeping and then we can get started on the tour.”

The long, low building that housed the interns was at the opposite end of the line of cabins from the director of the northwest quadrant’s house. Unlike the rest of the short, single story cabins, the director’s cabin was two stories tall, much like her father’s. Amelia led them inside, pointing out that in addition to the two rooms — one for the boys and one for the girls, each with their own bathroom — there was a communal sitting room, with round wooden tables and chairs, and a small kitchen.

“We tend to eat breakfast alone in our own cabins,” said Amelia. “Lunch and dinner will be served in the cafeteria, which is in the northwest offices, back where we began our tour. On days when you’re working through meals, as those do happen, a bagged lunch will be brought to you. Take about an hour and settle into your rooms, and then we will begin the tour, okay?”

Amelia left, and the six interns headed into their respective rooms. The girls’ room was about the size of Ursula’s dorm at Hogwarts, with three beds and a chest of drawers, and a table in one corner. The bubbly girl immediately claimed the nearest bed, so Ursula took the middle bed.

“I’m Isabella Rutlidge,” said the bubbly girl, holding out her hand to Ursula.

“I’m Ursula,” said Ursula, shaking her hand and giving her a smile. “Ursula Black. How do you do?”

“Ooh, are you British?” said Isabella excitedly. “That’s so cool. I’m from Colorado.”

“I’m Olivia, Olivia Finch,” said the other girl. “I’m from Massachusetts. How did you find out about this internship?”

“Well, I’ve been interested in magical creatures for, like, forever,” said Isabella at once. “Especially things like Unicorns, Demiguises, Bigfoot — the Wampus cat is my favorite. Anyway, one day my Magical Beasts and Beings teacher was like ‘Isabella’ and I was like ‘What?’ and she was like ‘Check out this internship’ and so I did and here I am!”

“At Ilvermorny, we’re told about this internship at least a year in advance,” said Olivia. “One of the boys, Alex, also goes to Ilvermorny, but he’s a year older than me. Magical creatures that are like birds are my favorite area of study, and one day I’d like to work here.” She turned her eyes on Ursula. “What about you?”

“I want to be a dragonologist,” said Ursula. “But I love all kinds of magical creatures, especially Hippogriffs and Thunderbirds. My dad told me about this internship. He’s one of the ornithologists here.”

“Your dad works here?” said Olivia. Ursula nodded.

“He’s the director of the northeast quadrant,” she said. “Kenneth Scamander.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Olivia threw her a look of deep dislike and turned her back on her and Isabella. Ursula didn’t know what Olivia’s problem was.

“I thought you said your last name was Black,” said Isabella, drawing Ursula’s attention back to her.

“It is,” said Ursula. “Black is my mother’s maiden name. It’s a long story.”

“What’s your school like?” asked Isabella. “Hogwash?”

“Hogwarts,” corrected Ursula.

“Right, Hogwarts,” said Isabella with a laugh. “I’ve always wondered what other wizarding schools are like.”

“Hogwarts is in a large castle in Scotland,” said Ursula. “We have four Houses, which are like the dorms that students are put into, and we’re Sorted at the beginning of first year. Er — each House has a Quidditch team, and the Houses are very competitive. I would assume we have almost all the same classes, though rather than Magical Beasts and Beings it’s called Care of Magical Creatures. What about you? What’s your school like?”

“I go to ,” said Isabella. “Everyone thinks of the American wizarding school as being just Ilvermorny, but there have to be more schools than that to fill up the United States. We don’t have houses like you Brits or like they do at Ilvermorny. It operates around the traditional farming season, even though most of us don’t do that anymore. Oh, and it’s not a boarding school. We get to go home every night.”

“It sounds lovely,” said Ursula. “Olivia? What’s Ilvermorny like?”

“It’s fine,” said Olivia with a shrug. “It’s big. We have four Houses like you do. Why do you care?”

“She’s just being shy,” said Isabella. “I’ve heard Ilvermorny is wonderful.”

It didn’t take long for them to unpack, and then they waited in the sitting room with the boys until Amelia came back. This time she was accompanied by Leo Scott, who introduced himself as the director of the northwest quadrant and said he would be joining them on their tour. Outside waited two golf carts and the interns piled on.

“I’m Apollo,” said the dark skinned boy who joined Isabella and Ursula in one of the carts. He had a thick southern drawl. “Apollo Collier.”

“Nice to meet you, Apollo,” said Ursula as the carts began to move. “I’m Ursula Black.”

“And I’m Isabella!” said Isabella.

“It’s good to meet you both!” said Apollo.

Amelia and Leo stopped the carts in front of the first barn and explained what the interns would be doing there. Then they drove past the pastures, where the other ornithologists waved as they passed. Amelia and Leo even drove them into the wilderness, filled with brush and patchy forests, where the ornithologists often went hiking to observe wild thunderbirds or kept them in semi-controlled environments, where they could be monitored until they were ready to be released.

Ursula and the other interns got out of the golf carts an hour later, back in front of the office building. Amelia gathered them together just inside the door, where they could cool off with the Muggle air conditioning that blasted inside.

“Before I let y’all go to lunch, I want to talk a bit about the actual jobs you will be doing,” said Amelia. “Each week, your assignments will go up on the bulletin board here and in your cabin. Each shift is four hours long, and there’s a break for dinner in your third shift of the day. You’ll complete your assignments in pairs; things like hiking through the wilderness, performing checkups on the thunderbirds, caring for their eggs or hatchlings, playing enrichment activities with them, and, of course, cleaning. After lunch we’ll stop by each station so you can see what the job entails, but before that, any questions?”

“What does ‘enrichment activities’ mean?” asked one of the boys, raising his hand.

“We use a variety of toys and games to make the thunderbirds exercise and keep them happy,” said Amelia. “Excellent question. Anyone else?” When no one answered, she said, “Go into the cafeteria and spend some time getting to know each other over lunch. It’s important that you all get along so that you work well as a team.”

The interns headed into the small cafeteria, where about half a dozen ornithologists were seated at the round tables that filled the room, munching on sandwiches and finishing the morning newspaper if they hadn’t already. The interns got their lunch and sat around a table and a half so they could talk, although at first nothing for than an awkward silence hung between them.

“So,” said one of the boys, who was tall, broad, loud, and had a wide smile. He was like an American version of Cassius. “I’m Joel Valencia. Um… how about we go around the table and introduce ourselves? Like I said, I’m Joel, and I’m going into my last year at the wizarding school, in Area 51. Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” said the boy he had become fast friends with. “I’m Alexander Mooney, you can call me Alex, and I am a senior at Ilvermorny. I guess that’s all… oh, and my favorite creature is a hippocampus.”

“I should’ve said that mine’s a Graphorn,” interjected Joel. “But I like anything with wings, really. I study aerodynamics at school.”

“I guess I’m next,” said Olivia. “I’m Olivia Finch, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and I’m a junior at Ilvermorny. Thunderbirds are my favorite, which is why I’m here.”

“Alright, y’all, guess that means I’m up next,” said Apollo, sitting up straighter in his seat. “I’m Apollo Collier, I’m from the Florida Keys, where my school’s got a big ole gator for a mascot. I don’t know what my favorite creature is, and I wasn’t even sure about coming here — though the good Lord knows I’m grateful I got in — but like my pop always says, if you can’t run with the big dogs, stay under the porch, so here I am! Ursula hon, how about you go next?”

“Oh, okay,” said Ursula, a little caught off guard. “My name is Ursula Black, and it is wonderful to meet all of you. I am going into my sixth year at Hogwarts, and I want to be a dragonologist when I graduate.”

“So you’re from  _ across the pond _ ?” said Joel, putting on a terrible British accent for the last three words. Ursula giggled.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “It’s a long way from home, but I like it here. Isabella, why don’t you go? I don’t want to make you wait any longer.”

“I’m Isabella Rutlidge, and you can call me Bella, or Izzy, or just Isabella really!” burst out Isabella at once. Ursula smiled and ate her sandwich as Isabella chattered happily away. She liked it here already.

When lunch was over, Amelia returned, accompanied by Ryker Stevens, a tall, weatherbeaten man with a gravelly voice who was the director of the whole sanctuary.

“It is a pleasure to have y’all here,” he said, addressing the interns. “We are proud of our internship and how it prepares students like yourselves for careers in magizoology, and I expect that y’all put in the dedication it takes to do this job, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

“Have a good day, y’all,” said Ryker Stevens, turning to leave. “And welcome to the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary.”

The interns followed Amelia outside, past the line of cabins and to the largest barn, where a pair of ornithologists opened the doors to greet them.

“Everyone, this is Kian Pope and Adrienne Baxter,” said Amelia. “This is the largest barn, where we keep mothers and their eggs or hatchlings. We bring the fathers in in the afternoon and give them a chance to watch their children while their mates go outside, then at night they all get to sleep in here or outside. We have two other barns for emergencies that are stocked with supplies or used to house injured thunderbirds that come in from the wild.”

“What do you mean, emergencies?” asked Apollo.

“Unfortunately, we frequently have poachers attempt to steal thunderbirds at night,” said Amelia. “They are highly valued for their feathers, which can be used as wand cores, and their abilities to sense danger. If there is an attack, it will likely be raining, as the thunderbirds create storms when they get scared, and you will hear loud bells ring. We’ve lost four birds in the last year. The hardest part is finding them in the wilderness after we’ve apprehended the poachers, because thunderbirds tend to flee when frightened.”

“How often is there an attack?” asked Isabella.

“On average, we have about one attack on the sanctuary every two months, though the summer sees more poachers than the winter,” said Amelia. “Hopefully there won’t be one while y’all are here, so you shouldn’t worry about one happening.”

“Come on in,” said Kian, gesturing for them to follow him into the barn “We’ll show you around.”

He showed them around the neat pens inside the barn. There were six female thunderbirds with clutches of eggs, three with hatchlings that were too young to go in the paddocks outside, and two pregnant thunderbirds inside the barn. Kian showed them where the food and supplies were kept, and then Adrienne explained the activities they would do in here, which amounted to checking eggs and hatchlings in the morning, performing checkups in the afternoon, and mucking out the stalls in the evening.

The next place they went was to the paddocks outside, where the other fifteen or so females with hatchlings each had their own space. Next to that was a pasture with the rest of the female thunderbirds, that Amelia explained was where they would do enrichment activities in the morning, while their mates watched over their eggs or hatchlings.

In the afternoon, while the pastures for the male thunderbirds were being cleaned, they would be brought to a separate area for their enrichment, and then once some of their energy was worked off they were brought to the barn or paddocks where their mates were. Many of the thunderbirds, especially those with mates but without eggs, were in semi-enclosed pastures that extended into the wilderness to simulate being in the wild as much as possible.

As Amelia walked them around the northwest quadrant, she explained more of the jobs they would be doing and how their shifts would work.

“In the morning,” she said, “you will be assigned to either hike in the wilderness, where you will check on the thunderbirds living there and see how they’re adjusting to semi-freedom, play enrichment activities or exercise with the female thunderbirds, or inspect their eggs and hatchlings. As I said before, you’ll work in pairs for every assignment, which will change every day. Any questions so far?”

“Will we be hiking the whole time?” asked Alex.

“Yes,” said Amelia. “A four hour hike may seem daunting, but don’t worry, we take lots of breaks as it is really just a long trail to check on each of the thunderbirds. Times for hiking are in the morning and late afternoon, as it is too hot at midday. Anyone else?”

When no one spoke, she went on, leading them past the paddocks and along the fence of one of the pastures.

“On your second shift, which if you remember is after lunch, you will be assigned to either do enrichment activities and exercise with the male thunderbirds, perform checkups on the injured or pregnant thunderbirds, as well as the new mothers, or clean the pastures while the male thunderbirds are occupied elsewhere.”

“On your last shift, most of you will have a break for dinner,” continued Amelia. “But two of you per day will be on another hike to check on the thunderbirds, and you’ll eat on the hike. The other job options are to muck out the stalls in the barn or perform miscellaneous tasks that need finishing. This could include filing, fetching supplies, posting letters, or visiting other quadrants. Does this all sound doable?”

A chorus of ‘Yes, ma’am’ went up among the interns. Amelia finished the tour and led them back to their cabin, telling them that dinner was in the cafeteria at six and that they could do what they liked until then. Joel and Alex began a card game similar to Exploding Snap at one table while Olivia read a book. Isabella chatted away to anyone who would listen, which was mostly Ursula and Apollo, who got along quite well with one another. By dinner, Ursula felt confident she had made two friends and at least two acquaintances.

Dinner came and went, and the interns were greeted by the rest of the ornithologists in the northwest quadrant as they sat down to eat. They went back to their cabin as the sun set in the evening. Ursula went to bed, excited to begin the internship for real the next morning.

“Coffee?” said Apollo as Ursula entered the kitchen the next morning, yawning widely.

“No thank you,” she said. “I’ll have tea.”

She set to work boiling water in the kettle, and found tea and a mug in the cabinet next to the sink.

“Sleep well?” asked Apollo sarcastically as she yawned again.

“I’m still jet lagged,” responded Ursula. “What about you?”

“I can’t start the day without caffeine,” said Apollo, saluting her with his mug. Ursula laughed.

“Morning!” said Isabella. “Eggs anyone? Speaking of which, Ursula, you’re with me on eggs and hatchlings for the first shift today! Isn’t that great?”

“Yes, it is,” said Ursula. “And eggs sound great. Apollo, you and I are doing checkups on the thunderbirds in the afternoon, and then Joel and I are hiking in the evening.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Apollo.

“I’m hiking with you? Heck yeah,” said Joel, grabbing a muffin.

Before leaving the cabin, Ursula applied a liberal amount of sunscreen. It was enchanted, so it would last her the whole day, as she couldn’t risk getting sunburned. Shortly before eight o’clock, she and Isabella headed to the large barn they had been shown yesterday.

“Welcome, welcome,” said Kian, ushering them into the barn. “We’ll start over here. We’ll do the eggs first and then the hatchlings.”

They headed over to the first stall, which was empty except for a clutch of four eggs, which were about twice the size of a crystal ball and white, speckled with pale yellow and baby blue.

“Sometimes we do the checkups in front of the thunderbirds, but other times we send them out for enrichment to distract them,” said Adrienne, who came over to join them. “As soon as we’re done here, I’ll bring in the fathers to take their turn watching their eggs.”

Isabella and Ursula climbed into the stall, and Kian proceeded to walk them through how to check an egg. First they turned the eggs over, gently checking for any soft spots, which could lead to deformities in the hatchlings, or cracks, where dirt could get in and cause infections. Thunderbirds turned their eggs every few hours to avoid this, but it was still important to check. Then they pressed a stethoscope to the middle of the egg to listen for a heartbeat. This became harder as the weeks went on, as new clutches of eggs like the one they were inspecting had softer shells than eggs about to hatch.

It was quite fun, Ursula thought, going down the line of stalls and listening to the thump of a baby thunderbird’s heart in each egg. The eggs were heavier than she expected, and despite the shells being harder the closer they got to hatching, the eggs were still fragile, and it was important that they didn’t knock against each other.

When they were done with the eggs, Adrienne showed them to the opposite side of the barn, where there were three mothers with young hatchlings, who stayed curled into their mother’s sides for warmth, which they needed until their feathers grew in. Newly hatched thunderbirds looked like puffy white clouds, which Ursula thought was fitting considering their name.

“Morning Annabelle,” said Adrienne, giving the first mother a pat on her beak. Ursula and Isabella waited for Annabelle to sniff them, determine that they did not pose a danger to her or her hatchlings, and give a click of approval to let them climb into the stall.

Thunderbirds less than three weeks old were at the highest risk for injuries, so it was important that they be carefully examined, explained Adrienne. One at a time, they picked up the hatchlings and held them close to their chests. This was a two person job, said Kian, because one person had to keep the thunderbird warm while the other examined it. Isabella and Ursula took turns holding the hatchlings, who were quite delicate and very soft. The hatchlings would nip lightly at their fingertips, which didn’t hurt now but would when they were stronger.

Examining the hatchlings was even more fun than checking the eggs. Once they were done with the three sets of newly hatched thunderbirds in the barn, Kian led them out to where two more ornithologists, Mitchell Archer and Samantha Davis, were walking between small paddocks, each of which was filled with a half dozen or so hatchlings of various ages. About two hours had passed by now, and in the cool barn Ursula had almost forgotten the heat of the sun.

“Currently, we have sixteen sets of hatchlings,” explained Mitchell. “As you can see, we’re currently bringing the fathers into each pen and taking the mothers out for a break. While Samantha finishes that, I’ll show you two how to perform a checkup on a hatchling.”

He led them to the nearest pen, which had five hatchlings about the size of a bloodhound. They tumbled over one another, flapping their wings and nipping playfully, and when Mitchell and the girls entered the paddock they were swarmed with attention.

“It’ll hurt if they bite you,” said Mitchell, pulling his hand out of the way just in time, “but not that much, and they bite quite a bit at this age. They usually settle down once you pick one of them up, but there’s always a chance their talons could scratch you, so be careful. All they want is attention, so once you’re finished with one it can be quite hard to remember which one you just did. You can always tell by the piece of tape we keep around their first talon.”

Mitchell picked one up to demonstrate. Sure enough, on a strip of tape wrapped around the top of the thunderbird’s first talon, was the name Jason.

“The tape doesn’t hurt them, and it makes our lives so much easier,” said Mitchell. He set Jason down, but kept his hands on him, one hand on his chest and one at the wing joints on his back. “This is the best way to keep them still, and it discourages them flying off or flapping their wings too much while you’re trying to examine them.”

“How fast do they grow?” asked Ursula.

“It takes about a year for them to reach full size, and a little longer for them to reach maturity,” said Mitchell. “These hatchlings are about four months old. There’s a different technique for dealing with the ones who are almost at adulthood, but I’ll show you that when we get there.”

Mitchell directed Ursula and Isabella through Jason’s examination, which included checking his eyes and ears, checking for any spots of irritation with his feathers, and having him flex his wings. Ursula and Isabella spent the next two hours going from pen to pen and slowly working their way through the hatchlings. It was rather like trying to hold onto large chickens, and both emerged tired, a finger or two bleeding, and have been smacked with more wings than they could count.

“Nice work,” said Mitchell.

“We didn’t get to all of them, though,” said Isabella.

“That’s okay,” said Mitchell. “You got through a lot, especially for your first day, and the two of you got a lot of practice examining hatchlings. Y’all did well. Now, go on to lunch.”

They did as they were told. The whole way, Isabella expressed how much fun they had had, to Ursula’s occasionally vocal agreement, and then when they met the other interns for lunch she got to tell the story again. After lunch, Ursula was happy to return to the cool barn, as the sun was at its hottest.

“Here to do checkups?” asked a witch, who introduced herself as Jillian Lee. Ursula and Apollo nodded and she led them over to the two pregnant thunderbirds. “We always start with these ladies here. Don’t worry about getting through every thunderbird every time; it’s almost impossible. But we have a chart that I’ll show you in a minute where you’ll mark down the thunderbirds you visited and deposit the notes you took, that way other ornithologists don’t repeat checkups unnecessarily. Not every bird needs a checkup every day, also. Just the pregnant ones, brand new mothers, and new arrivals who may be injured. It takes about a week to get through all of the birds.”

Jillian showed Ursula and Apollo everything they needed to do per checkup, which differed slightly bird to bird based on what they were looking for. It was interesting and, at the beginning, a little awkward, to part the thunderbirds’ feathers this way and that, flex their wings and look inside their beaks, feel around their stomachs and examine their talons, and make sure everything was as it should be.

Ursula correctly diagnosed a sprained wing, Apollo caught a bad scratch above a talon, and overall they left the cool barn in high spirits, having enjoyed their four hour shift. Ursula bid Apollo goodbye and headed to the head of the hiking trail, meeting Joel and two ornithologists, Nicholas Burton and Charlotte Anderson.

“Joel and Ursula?” said Nicholas, shaking both their hands. “Nice to meet you.”

He handed them each a backpack filled with light snacks, water, and supplies to care for the thunderbirds, while Charlotte explained that there were currently thirty six birds, both mated and alone, who lived within the boundaries of the northwest quadrant but were still wild. This morning, they said, they had visited about half of them, so Joel and Ursula would be walking a different route to see the other half.

It was a fairly strenuous hike, mostly uphill, through the rocky, bush covered terrain. Ursula’s legs were burning by the time they reached the first thunderbird. It was tucked into the side of a hill, which acted as a buffer for wind and rain, and required the ornithologists and interns to climb carefully down the slope to approach, holding onto rocks and branches on the way down.

“Ah, hello Christopher,” said Charlotte, waiting for the thunderbirds to finish assessing if she was a threat or not. “Hello Catherine.”

The thunderbirds cawed softly, pawing at the dirt. Ursula and Joel greeted them, patting their beaks to form a bond of companionship, but stayed well out of the enormous circle of torn up bushes and tree branches that made up the thunderbirds’ nest. Thunderbirds were social creatures, but very protective, of their mates, their eggs, their hatchlings, and their nests.

After checking on Chris and Cat — Nicholas’s nicknames for the thunderbirds — they hiked up and down through the wilderness to check on three more individual thunderbirds, two males and a female, before coming across their next mated pair. At every stop, Nick pulled out a clipboard from his backpack and Charlotte showed Ursula and Joel how to mark down the location, health, and general mood of each thunderbird on the list. The unmated ones tended to wander, and their hike didn’t happen in a straight line.

“Sun’s beginning to set!” said Nick, helping Ursula and Joel up a particularly steep point in the hike. “That means dinner time.”

“When you’re out hiking, you don’t make it back in time for dinner,” said Charlotte. “So we bring it along with us, and Nick’s rule is that he always eats dinner when the sun starts to set. Sit down; there’s a bag in your packs with your dinner.”

Joel gave Ursula a hand so she could climb further up the steep path for a place to sit. They set down their packs and pulled out brown paper bags, with sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, a packet of crackers, and an apple for each of them. They drank from their water bottles and watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon.

“So you’re British,” said Joel, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Yes,” said Ursula. “Is that all you can ask?” Joel laughed.

“Fine. What’s your school like?” he asked. “What’s England like, what are English wizards like, and are all the girls at Hogwarts as pretty as you?”

“Hogwarts is a very old castle, with almost three hundred students, in northern Scotland,” said Ursula. “England is not nearly as hot as Arizona, English wizards are like English Muggles, who are probably closest to American Muggles from the northeast, and rather than answer your last question, I’ll say instead that you remind me a lot of my friend Cassius.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Joel. “And I was joking, anyway, but I appreciate you humoring me.”

“What’s your school like?” said Ursula. “You said at lunch that it was a school with military influences.”

“Everyone has to take a class of some kind about Muggles,” said Joel. “We have all sorts of different ones specializing in different things. Our school is easily twice the size of yours, if not more than that, and it’s very structured and serious. We learn a lot about defensive magic, especially the kind that can be used to protect huge areas. There’s a strict no-offensive magic policy when dealing with the Muggles — that’s where the military ties come in.”

“I see,” said Ursula. “At Hogwarts, everyone takes the same core classes for a few years, to get an understanding of magic as a whole. In our third year, we get to pick what electives we want to take — usually a student will pick two or three out of five options — and then for our last two years of school, we take only the subjects needed to go into different careers. You have the option to take more than required, of course, like I plan on doing, but each wizarding career requires a certain amount of NEWTs, which are the tests we take at the end of our last year. In fifth year we take our OWLs, which determine which NEWT classes we are eligible to take. I’m currently waiting on my OWL scores.”

“We have something similar,” said Joel. “I’m curious, what do y’all do before you’re old enough to go to a wizard school? My school is just four years, like a Muggle high school, and we have a three year school before that that helps us decide which high school we want to go to. I gather you have seven years of school at Hogwarts, so what do you do before that? I went to a Muggle elementary school, and my parents taught me how to control my accidental magic.”

“Well, not everyone does the same thing,” said Ursula. “Some of us go to Muggle primary schools like you did, and others stay home and are taught reading, writing, basic math and that sort of thing by their parents. My family is… very traditional, so they hired a governess for me, and she taught two of my friends and I for about six years.”

“Weird,” said Joel. “I’ve never heard of anyone having a governess. I didn’t know they were still a thing.”

“In England, they are,” said Ursula. “Or at least among witches and wizards like my aunt and uncle. Sometimes I wish I’d gotten to go to Muggle primary school like some of my friends did.”

“Elementary school was fun for me,” said Joel. “I was even able to keep in touch with a few of my Muggle friends, with a few lies here and there, of course.”

“Everyone finished?” asked Charlotte. “We still have a number of thunderbirds to get through.”

They packed up their trash, making sure every last piece was back in the bags so they didn’t litter, and set off again through the sparse woods. They were beginning to change direction and head back towards the sanctuary by now, and they checked on about a dozen more thunderbirds before returning to the main part of the sanctuary. They threw away their trash and left their backpacks in the office, then Ursula and Joel trudged back to their cabin.

Ursula was exhausted after the long day of hard work, but particularly after the strenuous hike. She wasn’t as tired or sore as she might have been, since Hogwarts had so many stairs to climb, but the heat drained her energy. Since she was sweaty and covered in dust, Ursula showered before climbing into bed. Everyone’s third shift ended at the same time, though she and Joel were the only ones who worked through dinner, so she heard some bland descriptions of what cleaning was like from Olivia and a long, detailed list of every task she’d done since four in the afternoon from Isabella.

The next morning, Ursula checked the list of assignments and saw that she would be hiking with Olivia first thing. She drank a strong cup of tea, stretched to relieve the aching soreness in her legs, and applied the day’s sunscreen.

The hike was much the same as the one she had been on the night before, only it took a different route and visited different thunderbirds. But it was just as uneven and hilly as the other path. Olivia didn’t talk much, to Ursula at least, though the ornithologists they were with, Noah Murphy and Susanna Steen, kept up a steady stream of conversation. Olivia chatted freely with them, but anytime Ursula tried to ask her something she only got a clipped response in return. Eventually Ursula would get to the bottom of it, but while on a hike probably wasn’t the best time to confront a fellow intern about why she doesn’t like you.

Ursula found she much preferred hiking in the afternoon, because for the latter half of their hike the sun was hot and high in the sky, beating down on them. She may have been wearing sunscreen, but that didn’t stop her from taking extra precautions, including a wide brimmed hat and a long sleeved white sun shirt.

“She just doesn’t like me,” said Ursula quietly to Apollo at lunch, where she was happy to be back inside.

“And you have no idea why?” said Apollo.

“None at all,” said Ursula.

“Weird.”

“Anyway, how was enrichment today?” asked Ursula, switching the conversation. Enrichment sounded like great fun, and she couldn’t wait to get to do it.

After lunch, Ursula and Alex spent four hot hours raking through the paddocks, cleaning out waste and replacing water and food. She knew cleaning was an important and necessary task, but it was definitely her least favorite one yet. Then, from four o’clock until dinner and then again from seven to eight, Ursula and Isabella did a bunch of miscellaneous chores, including filing away the day’s checkup notes, delivering late mail, and checking paperwork for errors or faulty information.

On Wednesday, Ursula was back on hatchlings and eggs, though this time with Alex, and then she performed checkups with Olivia, who hadn’t done them before. Ursula was thrilled to see that she would be hiking with Apollo that night, although three hikes in three days was a lot.

“I’m glad that’s over,” said Apollo, when they returned to the cabin more than half an hour late. The hike had run long when they couldn’t find one of the thunderbirds, and had to search for her new nest.

“Me too,” said Ursula, braiding her wet hair. “I mean, I enjoyed it, but I’m still exhausted.”

Apollo nodded in agreement, as he was busy searching the fridge for food.

“Joel told me they done had cheesecake at dinner and that there were two slices for you and I left over,” he said. “Want one?”

“Yes please,” said Ursula. They took their slices of cheesecake into the sitting room, as it seemed everyone else had headed off to bed. Ursula wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but half an hour, two slices of cheesecake, and a large pot of hot chocolate later and she and Apollo were spilling secrets about their love lives to one another, even though they were still practically strangers.

“In freshman year, the girl I was sweet on told me she thought of me like her little brother,” said Apollo.

“I can beat that,” said Ursula. “Last year, I went on a date with a guy who told me he was ‘looking forward to having a trophy wife’ and then tried to make a pass at me.”

“Damn,” said Apollo. “Hate guys like that. They think the sun came up just to hear them crow.”

Ursula laughed.

“I’ve dated two guys,” she said. “Plus the one bad date and a couple of study dates with another guy.”

“I’ve done and gone on at least one date with three girls between now and middle school,” said Apollo. “Problem is, now I’m starting to like boys too, and darn it, I’m too much of a chicken to man up and confess.”

“What’s he like?” asked Ursula. “Your crush.”

“He’s on our school football team — that’s proper American Muggle football, mind you — and he’s in my Magical Beasts ‘n Beings class,” said Apollo, flopping down to lay flat on his back. “Sweet as sugar, a good listener, and pretty as a peach in June.”

“And you haven’t told him how you feel?” said Ursula. Apollo shook his head.

“Gotta know he feels the same before I go making a fool of myself,” said Apollo. “Makes me more nervous than a whore in church.”

Ursula choked on her drink, then laughed.

“You said it’s been what, three months or so since you dumped your last boyfriend?” asked Apollo. Ursula nodded. “And you don’t got your eye on anyone?”

“I’m staring at an arranged marriage,” said Ursula.

“No, really?” said Apollo, sitting up in surprise.

“My family pride themselves on being elitist purebloods,” explained Ursula. “My mum was supposed to have an arranged marriage, and two of my aunts had an arranged marriage, and my grandparents and their parents all had one as well. Most of them turned out happy, though.”

“You’ve got to be jerking my tail,” said Apollo. “An arranged marriage? To someone you’ve never met, or what?”

“Most likely to my friend Hadrian,” said Ursula. “I’ve known him since we were children, and he’s very nice, and both our families want the marriage because between us we have a lot of money and a lot of land, and it’ll keep the pureblood line going. Unfortunately, he’s one of the gayest people I’ve ever met.”

Apollo hooted with laughter, slapping his knee. Ursula tried to shush him so as not to wake the others.

“An arranged marriage sucks on it’s own!” said Apollo, gasping for air between every word as he laughed. “But you’re gonna marry a gay man!”

He dissolved into laughter once again.

“Arranged marriages aren’t inherently bad,” defended Ursula. “And besides, it’s unlikely either of us can get out of it. I mean, it’s not like his family knows.”

“I’ve gotta see a picture,” said Apollo. “I can see how he benefits from this whole arrangement, but girl you’ve gotta get something out of it.”

“ _ Accio _ ,” said Ursula. She had pictures of all her friends in her suitcase, and she was pretty sure one of those pictures was of Hadrian. The little photo came zooming out of her room and landed in Ursula’s hand.

“Hot  _ damn _ ,” said Apollo, taking the picture from her. “He’s a tall glass of iced tea. Invite me to the wedding, will you?”

Just as Ursula snatched the picture back and the two of them lapsed into giggles again, Olivia came into the sitting room, reaching for a book on the other table. She looked at them disapprovingly as they sobered up but said nothing, turning and heading back to her room.

“We should get to bed,” said Ursula, punctuating her statement with a yawn. “I have to hike with Joel tomorrow.”

“Four hikes in four days,” said Apollo. “Lord knows I don’t envy you. Two hikes today was too much for me.”

“Yeah that sounds like a lot,” said Ursula. “Thanks for staying up with me. Good luck with your crush.”

“Hey, thank you,” said Apollo. “Good luck with your engaged marriage.”

They cleaned the plates and cups they had been using and went off to bed. Ursula shoved the picture of Hadrian back into her suitcase with the pictures of her other friends and sighed. Talking with Apollo had reminded her just how real her future was, and she recalled the cryptic conversation she had had with her aunt and uncle before leaving for America.

The next day, Ursula went hiking with Joel, and then she and Isabella got to play enrichment activities with the male thunderbirds. It was tremendous fun, rolling balls with treats packed inside, putting things high up where the thunderbirds couldn’t reach, and running back and forth across the pasture with them.

Thursday night, Ursula and Alex spent their last shift mucking out the barn stalls. Ursula was back with Apollo Friday morning, and she finally got to play enrichment activities with the female thunderbirds. Friday afternoon, she and Joel were with the male thunderbirds playing with them again, and then she and Olivia cleaned the stalls in the barn that night. It was the one day that week Ursula didn’t hike.

Saturday was still a work day for the interns, but instead of their usual shifts in the morning they all went on a hike, longer than usual, in two groups of three with a few ornithologists as their guides. Ursula was with Apollo and Olivia, and they hiked a long way through the wilderness, even going past the boundaries of the sanctuary, so that they were well and truly tired when they got back. For her afternoon shift, Ursula and Joel cleaned the pastures, and then in the evening she and Apollo did all the miscellaneous tasks that needed to be done.

Sunday was their day off, and after sleeping in — not one of the interns got up before ten — they amused themselves with games and leisurely strolls. Ursula got to visit her father and stepfather all afternoon, and it was marvelous to see them and their new home.

The following week was much the same, although with a different schedule. By now Ursula had adjusted to the time difference and was no longer so sore after hikes or cleaning. They were all getting used to the routine, although some of them had adapted to the heat quicker than others. Joel and Apollo were used to hot temperatures, so they didn’t have a problem with it, and Isabella said she was fine with the heat and happy that she only tanned. But for Olivia, Alex, and Ursula, it took a little longer to adjust. With the temperature up to the low forties in Celsius, it certainly took some getting used to, and Ursula was exceedingly grateful that she didn’t have to deal with this kind of heat every summer.

For the most part, Ursula was enjoying the internship, but there was one thing that made her feel a little out of place. The other interns were from America, of course, but that meant that at the end of the first week they all had letters from their families to read. By the second week of no mail, it made Ursula feel incredibly homesick. She was lucky enough to get to see her father and stepfather, of course, but she missed her aunt and uncle and cousin and friends. She felt confident she’d get a letter eventually, because she knew in the logical part of her mind that it took ten days or so for a letter to reach her from England, and eventually, in the middle of the third week, she did.

Ursula was overjoyed when she saw the set of letters that awaited her at breakfast. One from the Malfoys, one from Cassius, and one from Lilian. She opened the one from her family first, peeling off the wax seal stamped with the family crest.

_ Dear Ursula, _

_ You are missed dearly at home by all of us, but we hope you are having a wonderful time at your internship. Your grandmother would say this is unladylike, but I see nothing wrong with broadening your education, although I must confess that I, along with Lucius, were apprehensive about your trip. Your cat is well taken care of at Corvus Manor by your house elves, though I have been told he misses you as much as we do. _

_ Your uncle has secured seats in the Top Box for the Quidditch World Cup in August. We are to be guests of the Minister for Magic. I expect many of your friends will be attending, and you may even see some of them there. The Burkes and the Shafiqs will both be in attendance, and no doubt the Rowles will attend as well. _

_ Speaking of the Rowles, and in particular their eldest son, we have reason to believe that he will be spending time at Hogwarts this year. This will, of course, be a chance for the two of you to spend some time together. I know he has always enjoyed your company. I recently came across Wilhelmine Tripe, your former governess. Our visit made me realize that it has been five years since your lessons with her ended. _

_ Your OWL scores have not arrived yet, nor do I believe they will for several weeks, likely soon after you return. Here at home, Draco has been practicing Quidditch. Lucius added additional wards around Malfoy Manor so the Muggles nearby don’t see him fly. I have been occupied with the usual things, and you are missed at Sunday tea. Lucius has been working with his friends in the Ministry as usual. _

_ Warmest regards, _

_ Narcissa Malfoy _

Ursula smiled wryly.

“Of course,” she said.

“What is it?” asked Apollo, munching on a bagel. Ursula showed him the second and third paragraph of the letter.

“She mentions Hadrian and my governess to remind me of my lessons with her and my potential engagement with him,” said Ursula. “She’s planning something.”

Ursula turned to Cassius’s letter, which was more direct than Narcissa’s but retained the formal aspect they were both brought up with.

_ Dear Ursula, _

_ Summer has been surprisingly boring so far. Adrian and I have been visiting one another to practice Quidditch. He says his house is too empty without his brother, I say he’s lucky he doesn’t have four younger siblings like I do. He also says to tell you hello. _

_ I’m looking forward to the Quidditch World Cup. Father managed to get seats for all of us. Have you heard about what’s happening at Hogwarts this year? I won’t spoil the surprise if you haven’t — because no doubt you will hear of it from your uncle upon your return — but suffice to say I’m thrilled. This will be a very exciting year. _

_ No OWL results have arrived yet. I didn’t think I would be this nervous about them, but I am. Ce la vie. I don’t think I failed anything (except maybe History of Magic, which’ll annoy my dad), but I’d like to know so I can stop fretting, and it helps to plan for the future, you know? _

_ We’re all missing you. How is the internship going? I imagine it would be dreadfully hot. Write back as soon as you can, and don’t forget that we agreed to have a party when you get back. Don’t forget about us while you’re in America, and be sure to protect yourself from the sun. I can’t wait to hear all about your trip. _

_ Sincerely yours, _

_ Cassius Warrington _

Smiling, Ursula set aside the letter and opened the last one, from Lilian.

_ Dear Ursula, _

_ I know something is going to happen at Hogwarts but no one will tell me what. My mum came home from work and said we were going to have a very exciting year but she won’t say a word why, and Cassius is acting extraordinarily smug about it. Vanessa knows, and no doubt Gemma and Adrian do too, and no one will tell me. Please, if you know, take pity on me and tell me. _

_ Next, we did manage to get tickets to the Quidditch World Cup but it was narrow. I’ll tell you the whole story when you get home. Alice spends every second of every day talking about how excited she is and it’s driving me crazy. Dad says we’ll have to go to Diagon Alley before the match because there might not be time after, since the matches can go on for days or even weeks, so perhaps you and I can go together. _

_ I hope you’re enjoying your internship as much as you thought you would. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Why does it take so long for a letter to reach you? You said it took ten days or so, so by the time you write me back it’ll be almost time for you to come home! Stupid mail. Thank your stepfather for all the information on Muggle airplanes. I know I did well on my OWL because of him. Or at least, I hope. No scores yet! _

_ I miss you! Love, _

_ Lilian _

Extraordinarily pleased by the letters, Ursula resolved to write responses that night, and she headed off to do enrichment activities with Alex with an added spring in her step. Her other two shifts on Wednesday were spent cleaning, but even that couldn’t dampen her mood as she returned to the cabin to write her replies, which she mailed the next morning from the northwestern quadrant’s office.

Now that she was more than halfway done with the internship, it felt more real and time only seemed to fly by faster as the interns got better and better. The selection of jobs they practiced weren’t nearly all of the ones performed by the ornithologists, but they were all key tasks that gave them a well rounded understanding of some of the responsibilities of being a magizoologist.

They were almost into the final week of their internship at this point, and the weather only grew hotter each day. Ursula checked on the eggs and hatchlings, then did checkups on the adult thunderbirds, and finally did miscellaneous tasks on Thursday, and then she hiked, cleaned, and did more miscellaneous tasks on Friday.

Like the previous two Saturdays, the interns all went on hikes, three to a group, in the morning, coming back to the sanctuary just before the sun reached its hottest point for the day. Then in the afternoon Ursula did some checkups with Alex, and in the evening she went on another hike with Olivia. Exhausted and looking forward to her day off tomorrow, Ursula climbed happily into bed and fell quickly asleep. All the interns were asleep fast that day, because of the exhausting week they had had.

But they wouldn’t stay asleep long.

Because soon, the bells began to ring.


	56. The Internship: Part Two

“Wha — what’s going on?” said Joel, as he and the other interns stumbled into the sitting room in their pajamas, still half asleep, as they heard the bells clang loudly.

“An attack!” said Isabella with a gasp.

“They were right about the bells,” grumbled Apollo. “I can certainly hear them.”

“Come on,” said Ursula, putting on her boots and jacket over her pajamas. The others quickly did the same, grabbing their wands and heading out the door.

“What’s happening?” asked Joel, stopping the first ornithologist they came across. Thunder rumbled overhead as rain poured down on them.

“Attack on the barn and the pastures,” said Brody Clark, panting. “Large group of poachers, maybe six to ten. Lots of birds missing, likely fled into the woods. Go find McKnight by the trailhead. I’ve got to go.”

He ran off as someone called his name. The interns ran through the rain, mud splashing their legs, until they reached Emerson McKnight, who was working with other ornithologists to secure the hatchlings and move them towards the second barn.

“Take this!” shouted Emerson, passing flashlights to each of them. A flash of lightning illuminated the chaos for a moment, followed by a massive boom. “The attack was on the barn! We have people chasing down the poachers and birds they took so we need you to look in the woods for birds who may have run off!”

“Shoot up red sparks if you’re in trouble!” added another ornithologist, nearly unintelligible in the rain. “You three, go left, and you three, go right!”

“Stay out of danger!” shouted Emerson. “You’re just looking for birds who may have escaped! Don’t go far!”

Still a bit stunned, the interns split into their directed groups and headed out, with Ursula, Apollo, and Olivia heading left and Joel, Isabella, and Alex heading right. It was all very sudden and frightening, as they stomped through the woods doing their best to stick to the familiar path that they had been hiking for the last three weeks.

The yelling and the bells faded away as they trekked through the wilderness, the rain drumming on the forest floor drowning out all other sounds save for the occasional boom of thunder that succeeded a crackle of lightning, which always caused the interns to jump. They pointed their Muggle flashlights at the low lying brush, watching their footing and looking out for any thunderbirds who may have wandered off.

“Look!” shouted Olivia. She pointed her flashlight down the side of a rocky slope into a ditch, where two thunderbirds were huddled tightly together. The male one cawed angrily at them.

“It’s Chris and Cat,” said Ursula. “They look alright.”

“We’ll leave them there, right?” said Apollo. “Since this is their home, they aren’t lost?”

They decided that was best and kept going. They found two single male thunderbirds huddled together in one nest for protection, and were able to get near enough to perform a checkup and make sure they were okay. Since Hector and Ramone lived in the wild normally, just like Chris and Cat, the interns decided to leave them there.

The hike was strenuous in good weather, but frightening and treacherous in bad. They walked far slower and closer together than they would have normally, since the rocks were slippery and the ground littered with tripping hazards. It was hard to keep to the familiar path in the dark, and all too easily they found themselves veering off in the wrong direction.

“We’re officially lost,” said Olivia. The rain had died down to a light patter, but they were far away from the sanctuary now and the sky was pitch black, the stars obscured by clouds. The moon had been full the night before, and Ursula wished one of the heavy clouds would part and give them light beyond their flashlights and wands.

“Hang on,” said Apollo. He walked a little ways away, up the slippery rocky path. “I think I see a — ARGH!”

“Apollo?” chorused Ursula and Olivia, hurrying through the dark forest towards the sound of his cry. They stopped short, flashlights in one hand and wands in the other, casting yellow beams of light down on Apollo, who had fallen down the rocky slope and was clutching his ankle.

“Are you alright?” called Ursula.

“No I damn well am not!” he shouted back. “I think my ankle’s sprained!”

“How’re we going to get him up?” said Olivia.

“Let’s — let’s conjure red sparks while we think of something,” said Ursula.

“Is that all you can come up with?”

“If you have a better idea I’d like to hear it,” snapped Ursula. For a moment, she paused, and then said, “Why don’t you like me?”

“What?” snapped Olivia.

“I asked why you don’t like me,” said Ursula. “Ever since the start of this internship, you’ve given me nasty looks or the cold shoulder. Why?”

“Because I thought you only got into the internship because of your father,” shot back Olivia. “I worked hard for this.”

“Did it ever cross your mind that I worked hard too?” said Ursula. “So that’s it? You thought I only got the internship place because of my dad?”

“And —” began Olivia, before cutting herself off. She was quiet for a moment before she continued. “Because I was jealous!”

“Of what?” said Ursula.

“You knew some of the ornithologists already,” said Olivia, lowering her voice. “Every station we did together, you already knew what you were doing. And everyone liked you. All the other interns especially.”

She sighed.

“I’m sorry, okay?” she said. “I shouldn’t have judged you, but once I did… it was easier to keep doing it.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t have this conversation sooner,” said Ursula. “Can we start over?”

“I’d like that,” said Olivia. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Ursula. “Friends?”

“Friends,” said Olivia, and they shook hands. “I’m Olivia Finch. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Ursula, Ursula Black,” said Ursula. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Don’t rush on my account!” shouted Apollo. “I hate to interrupt this little cathartic moment for y’all but my ankle’s shot and I’m stuck below these goddamn rocks!”

“I don’t think anyone can see the sparks,” said Ursula. “They must still be occupied with the poachers and we’re pretty far out.”

“Do you think one of us could climb down and help him up?” said Olivia. “I don’t think there’s anything we can use as a rope…”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ursula. “How about we use a long tree branch for balance?”

They agreed, and Olivia went to find the branch while Ursula climbed slowly down to where Apollo was sitting on a large rock.

“ _ Ferula _ ,” she said, tapping his ankle with her wand. Bandages sprung up around it to stabilize it and she helped him stand. Next Ursula pointed at the little cuts on his hands from where he had braced his fall. “ _ Episkey _ .”

“Thanks,” said Apollo. “I was about to pitch a hissy fit a minute ago.”

“No problem,” said Ursula. “Let’s get you out of here.”

She helped Apollo slowly climb the rocks, helping him balance so he didn’t slip. Olivia leaned over the edge of the slope and held out a long branch that he could hold on to as a guide, and Ursula shone her flashlight on the path. Once he was up, Ursula followed, and then they were all standing — or sitting, in Apollo’s case — on the path without any idea what to do next.

“Do you hear something?” said Ursula suddenly.

They all strained to listen, and through the hiss of rain that still drenched their clothes and hair, they heard a strange, high pitched keen coming from somewhere in the distance.

“What is it?” asked Apollo.

“Do you think it could be a thunderbird in danger?” asked Olivia. Both she and Ursula looked at Apollo. They knew they should head back or send up sparks again and wait for help.

“Let’s go see,” said Ursula. She and Olivia took turns supporting Apollo as they followed the strange sound, scouring the ground with their flashlights and being careful not to take any missteps like the ones that had led to Apollo’s injury.

They were even further away from the sanctuary, and the path they were supposed to be hiking, by the time they found the source of the noise.

There were two thunderbirds, one standing and one lying down, around a half made nest. They were obviously from the sanctuary and not used to being in the wild, but even worse was that the one making the keening sound was Eleanor, one of the pregnant thunderbirds, which meant —

“She’s in labor,” said Olivia, wiping rain out of her eyes.

“Oh Merlin,” said Ursula.

“What do we do?”

“We were supposed to find missing thunderbirds,” said Ursula. “We found them. I suppose all we can do is help her deliver the eggs. It’s not like we can stop it now.”

“She’s already delivered the first one,” said Apollo. He limped over, waited until she and her mate, Atlas, had assessed that he was not a threat, and then sat down and stroked her head.

“We need to clean it,” said Olivia. “Oh, I wish they had a nest.”

“How are we going to carry them back?” said Ursula.

“Depends on how many she has,” said Olivia.

“Here.” Apollo took off his pajama shirt and tossed it to them. “Use this to wash the eggs.”

They didn’t protest, and Olivia soaked the already drenched shirt in more rainwater before gently sponging off the first egg, and then the second, which Ursula guided onto a soft patch of leaves and sticks. Atlas was antsy, and as the third egg arrived he beat his wings nervously and kept snapping at the interns.

“He needs to calm down,” said Ursula. She wiped her face on her sleeve but it was no use. The rain was falling harder and faster now and they were soaked to the bone. She stood and put a hand on Atlas’s beak, right below his eyes. “Hey. Look at me. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

After a few minutes of this, Atlas calmed down, and so did the storm. He held a wing protectively over the four eggs that had already been delivered to keep them out of the drizzle. It was quite cold now, with the wind and their damp clothes.

“Ursula,” said Olivia urgently, under her breath. “We have a problem.”

Ursula hurried back over to Eleanor’s side as she heaved, struggling and making a sort of whimpering sound as she tried to deliver the next egg.

“I think it’s stuck,” whispered Olivia. “What do we do?”

“Well,” said Ursula, trying to think. “Let’s… let’s apply a little bit of pressure at her hip, behind the egg. And… maybe if she unfurls her wings she’ll have more room to stretch.”

“It’s worth a shot,” said Olivia. Apollo kept stroking Eleanor’s head as a shudder ran through her, and the girls managed to coax her wing open. That, combined with the gentle pressure Ursula applied on her stomach, was enough to push the fifth egg out.

“It’s a whopper,” said Apollo. “Absolutely gigantic.”

The egg  _ was _ larger than the others, noticeably so, as they laid it with the others. Atlas nudged it gently with his beak, and Ursula assured him it was fine.

“Is that all?” asked Ursula, giving Eleanor a pat. For a moment it seemed like it was, but then Eleanor gave one more heave and one final egg slipped out. Ursula bent just in time to catch it. Being careful of the soft shell, which was easily susceptible to damage.

“ _ That _ is all,” corrected Olivia.

“What now?” asked Ursula, observing the six eggs. “I suppose we could carry them back, two each… but what if one of us trips and falls? Besides, we need to see where we’re going.”

“How about a sling?” suggested Olivia. “We could… I don’t know, tie something under Atlas’s belly… Eleanor is in no shape to carry the eggs herself.”

Indeed, all Eleanor wanted to do was sleep, which they would let her while they figure this out.

“We have no rope, and I don’t know the spell to conjure one,” said Ursula. “But we could tie our jackets together, and maybe carry the eggs between us.”

“And we can use bandages to pad out the sling to make sure the eggs don’t knock into one another!” said Olivia. At this stage, when an egg was this soft, it was important they didn’t knock against one another because doing so could damn the baby thunderbird inside.

“Brilliant,” said Ursula. “Let’s get to work.”

They each took off their jackets — Ursula offered Apollo his shirt back but he shrugged and said they should use it as padding — and first zipped them together, then used the sticky part of a bandage to reinforce the connection. The worst thing that could happen was the sling breaking. Then, when they were done, they set the eggs gently in, packing the space between with conjured bandages and soft leaves. Atlas oversaw the process anxiously, and all seemed fine until they discovered they could only fit four of the six eggs into the sling.

“Hmm,” said Ursula, surveying the last two. “We can’t make it bigger.”

“I could carry them,” said Apollo.

“But you can’t walk,” pointed out Olivia. “Unless…”

“He didn’t have to,” finished Ursula. She pointed at Atlas. “Apollo could ride him, then there wouldn’t be as much of a danger of dropping an egg.”

“What do you say, big boy?” said Apollo to Atlas. “Can I ride on your back?”

Atlas snorted his approval, so that was that. The girls handed back Apollo’s jacket, as it only took two to make the sling, so he could build a mini nest of his own, and soon enough they were done. Atlas knelt and Apollo climbed onto his back just behind the wing joints, and then Ursula and Olivia carefully handed him the last two eggs. They roused Eleanor, carefully picked up the sling, and slowly, ever so slowly, headed back towards the sanctuary.

And it took forever. By some miracle, in all their backtracking and getting lost, they had turned around and were closer to the start of their journey than where they had originally strayed from the path, but it was still more than an hour of slow walking before they made it back to the trailhead.

At one point, a dreadful ripping noise sounded, and Ursula and Olivia had to kneel quickly, setting the sling as carefully as they could on the ground, terrified one of the eggs would break. It turned out that the egg that was larger than the others had strained the seams of one of the jackets, which had begun to rip. After a quick  _ reparo _ and some anxious checking to be sure the same thing wouldn’t happen again, they set off again.

It wasn’t raining anymore by the time they reached the trailhead, meaning all the thunderbirds must have calmed down. They heard a myriad of anxious voices, and Ursula wished she had a camera to capture the stunned look on everyone’s faces as their procession, going her and Olivia carrying the eggs between them, then a tired Eleanor, and finally Apollo, with two more eggs in his arms, on Atlas’s back, stepped through the trees and into the open.

Everyone was soaking wet, it seemed. There were the other three interns, with Isabella covering her hands with her mouth, then there was Amelia, who looked stern but relieved, then Ursula’s dad, who looked anxious and angry, with a muscle jumping in his jaw, and finally a whole bunch of other ornithologists.

“Ursula! Thank Merlin —”

“There you are —

“— very dangerous —”

“— should have never let you go —”

“— red sparks —”

“It’s been hours!”

Finally Ursula and Olivia managed to remind everyone that they were still carrying six newly delivered eggs, and they moved them, Eleanor, and Atlas to the barn. Once that was done, Ursula endured a rib-cracking hug from her father.

“Dad! Dad, I’m okay! I’m okay!”

Finally he let go, looking at her with worry and pride in his eyes.

“Never do that again,” he said. “The three of you were gone for hours. It was dangerous! One of you clearly got hurt, and it could’ve been more of you or you could’ve run into some poachers! We chased them into the forest, you know.”

Ursula gulped. She hadn’t considered that.

“I’m just…” said Ken. “I’m just so proud.”

He enveloped her in another hug.

“What happened?” asked Emerson. “I told you not to go far, and to use red sparks if you were in trouble!”

“We did,” said Apollo, wincing as he put weight on his sprained ankle. “Twice. But none of y’all saw.”

“We were following the path as best we could in the dark and the rain,” said Olivia tersely. “Then we got lost. And we were going to go back after Apollo got hurt —”

“I fell down some rocks and sprained my ankle,” interjected Apollo.

“— but then we heard Eleanor in the distance, and we followed the sound and helped deliver the eggs,” finished Ursula. “After that, we built a sling out of our jackets and, well, walked back here.”

Everyone stared at them incredulously.

“We were so worried about y’all!” said Isabella. “Joel, Alex, and I got back  _ hours _ ago!”

“After we captured the poachers, we had to chase down the ones that got away and the birds they stole,” explained Leo. “Then, when we got back here and rounded everyone up and calmed down all the thunderbirds, we found out y’all were missing. Ken was pissed we even let you go —”

“— because it was dangerous and my daughter was involved,” cut in Ken.

“— and we were arguing over how to search you when you, quite literally might I add, stumbled back home,” said Leo.

“I suppose you didn’t disobey any instructions,” said Amelia slowly. “And regardless, you acted fast, smart, and with the interests of both the thunderbirds and your fellow interns in mind.”

“You did well,” cut in Ryker Stevens. “All three of you. Y’all should be very proud of yourselves. How about we hear more about your adventure in the morning? We all need sleep, and Mr. Collier needs medical attention.”

They agreed, and the interns — with one more hug from her dad for Ursula — headed, relieved, back to bed. They were all soaked and muddy, and emptied their boots of rainwater before entering the cabin, leaving them to dry by the door. After showering and making sure to wash all of the mud out of her hair, Ursula changed into a different pair of pajamas, for obvious reasons, and repeated her routine of combing out her hair before bed. It was just past four in the morning by the time she finally crawled into bed and fell back asleep.

Ursula, Olivia, and Apollo didn’t get up until nearly noon that Sunday, and when they entered the cafeteria, still yawning, they were greeted with a round of applause from the other ornithologists. Bemused but thankful, they sat down and recounted the full story while they ate. Apollo’s ankle had been mended in a trice and was good as new, and Ursula and Olivia had to correct the story when he tried to fabricate it to sound more thrilling and heroic.

“You’re right,” he said, when they thwarted his attempts to claim he was hanging off a cliff with only one hand between him and a fifty foot drop onto sharp rocks. “It was plenty thrilling and heroic as is.”

At that, they all laughed.

There was a pronoun shift in behavior over the last week of their internship, specifically between Olivia and Ursula, who were now as thick as thieves with one another. It was ridiculous that it took them so long to become friends, especially after discovering that they had so much in common.

The interns returned to their normal schedule on Monday, and Ursula got to check on the eggs she had helped deliver during her first shift with Isabella. They were doing just fine, said Adrienne and Kian, who repeated how proud they were of her. Then Ursula did checkups with Apollo, and went on a slightly reduced hike with Joel that evening.

Then, on Tuesday, Ursula and Olivia were assigned to hike together, and Ursula discovered that Olivia was almost as chatty as Isabella when prompted. The two got on wonderfully together, and the hike was much more enjoyable as a result.

It was strangely bittersweet to be cleaning the pastures for the final time that Tuesday, or looking at the schedule and realizing this was the last time she’d run miscellaneous errands. On Wednesday, Ursula checked on the eggs and hatchlings, and did checkups, and went on one more night time hike, all for the last time during her internship. Thursday she hiked in the morning, did enrichment activities with the male thunderbirds, and mucked out the stalls, not for the last time on any of those, and then on Friday she played enrichment activities with the female thunderbirds, and played similar games with the males and cleaned the barn stalls, this time for the last time.

On Saturday, the last day of their internship and the day before they would all leave the sanctuary and return to their own homes, the interns all went on one big hike in the morning, getting up extra early to see the sun rise as they did. In the afternoon, they occupied themselves by playing games with the thunderbirds, and then, in the evening, they went on a special hike.

There was a small, hidden lake in the forest, oddly near where Ursula, Olivia, and Apollo had ended up, and Saturday evening all the interns, plus Amelia, Ursula’s dad, Leo, and Ryker, as well as all the ornithologists who had worked with them over the last month, hiked out to the lake to have a picnic.

“Wow!” said Isabella, as they spread out blankets and passed baskets back and forth. The setting sun reflected beautifully on the water, casting the whole scene in a warm, rosy glow.

“Before we eat,” said Amelia, standing and holding a drink in her hand (sparkling cider had been handed out for celebration), “I want to say a few words to our interns.”

All talking ceased, and she turned to face the six interns sitting on one large picnic blanket.

“Every year, we bring in a new batch of interns, and every year, they find a way to surprise us,” said Amelia. “This year, y’all have gone above and beyond to demonstrate your determination, skill, and courage when caring for our thunderbirds and forming bonds with one another. You have all beyond impressed us with your hard work and exceptional dedication, demonstrating everything this internship and this sanctuary is all about.”

She took a moment to pass out six thick envelopes.

“In these envelopes, you will find your internship certification, which qualifies you for an entry level position working with thunderbirds, a letter of recommendation, signed and sealed by me, which should be enough to get you into any magizoology program, and a card of congratulations signed by all of us here in the northwest quadrant,” said Amelia.

Ursula smiled, running her thumb over her name on the front of the envelope, then over the gold wax seal on the back.

“We have one more gift to give you,” continued Amelia. “You will, of course, be paid before you leave tomorrow —” a laugh rippled through the crowd “— but it has been the tradition every year to name a batch of hatchlings after the interns who helped care for them. Some years, they could be hatchlings newly hatched or a promise for the next batch of eggs, but this year we are proud to say that thanks to the hard work of our interns, Atlas and Eleanor’s six hatchlings will bear their names when they hatch.”

They all cheered. The interns high fived one another, with Apollo claiming dibs on the largest egg.

“So, raise a glass in congratulations,” said Amelia, holding her glass aloft towards them, “to the twenty-first batch of graduates in the Arizona Thunderbird Sanctuary Internship Program!”

The cheer was echoed by all the ornithologists, and they clinked glasses with one another before digging into the picnic baskets to eat. It was the best way to end their time there, with good food, good company, and even a cake to share, one that had somehow survived the heat of the hike. Ursula looked around at her new friends and the beautiful setting and felt sad that it was over, but happy to be returning home.

In the morning, they all packed and had breakfast and wished each other goodbye. There was a lot of hugging and a fair amount of tears, largely from Isabella but some from Apollo too, in the interns’ cabin.

“Promise you’ll keep in touch, yeah?” said Olivia, handing Ursula a slip of paper with her address.

“Of course,” said Ursula, passing back an identical slip. “Now that we’re friends I can’t let you get away.”

They both laughed, and hugged.

“I’ll miss you,” said Ursula.

“I’ll miss you too,” said Olivia. “Your dad and stepdad are taking you to the airport, right?”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “Your flight doesn’t leave until later though, does it?”

Olivia shook her head sadly. Isabella’s train had left an hour ago, and Ursula and Apollo both had flights to catch soon. Olivia and Alex would leave later, and Joel would take a train home when they left.

“I guess this is goodbye,” she said.

“For now,” said Ursula, giving her new friend another hug. “For now.”

She collected her suitcase, doing one last sweep of the room to be sure it was clean and she hadn’t forgotten anything, then headed out the door. Ursula was stopped in the sitting room by Apollo, who gave her his phone number, his address, and reminded that she had promised to invite him to her wedding.

Outside the cabin, Amelia handed Ursula and Apollo each a check, which could be redeemed at Gringotts or any other wizarding bank, and then they took a golf cart to the entrance of the sanctuary, where Ken and Tony were waiting to drive Ursula and Apollo to the airport.

Ursula said goodbye to her dad and stepdad, then goodbye to her friend, and then another goodbye to Ken and Tony before she was ready to step through her gate and head home. She waved at them in line, and they waved back, and Ursula boarded her flight happily.

She had enjoyed the internship immensely, but she couldn’t wait to get home.


	57. Madam Tripe's Visit

Just days after Ursula’s return home, which was marked by a particular appreciation of the weather, which was much cooler than in Arizona, her OWL results arrived. She shouldn’t have been surprised, of course, as it had been more than a month since term ended, but she was still anxious when Dimsey brought the owl inside. Lucius would never allow an owl in the dining room, so Dimsey detached the letter and brought it to Ursula.

She held the letter in her hand, weighing the thin parchment. She barely looked at the wax seal on the back before slitting the envelope open with her engraved paper knife. Ursula pulled out the results and steeled herself before unfolding the paper.

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ **

**_Ordinary Wizarding Level Results_ **

**Pass Grades: Fail Grades:**

Outstanding (O) Poor (P) 

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D) 

Acceptable (A) Troll (T) 

**_Ursula Cassiopeia Black has achieved:_ **

  
  


Ancient Runes - E

Arithmancy - O

Astronomy - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - E

History of Magic - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Ursula read through the parchment several times, her breathing becoming easier with each reading. Finally, accepting the results with pride, she passed the letter to her aunt and uncle.

“Ten OWLs,” said Narcissa approvingly, when Ursula handed her the paper. “Very well done.”

“Excellent work,” said Lucius.

Ursula turned to the list of supplies, which had been included with her results, scanning for anything that might give a hit as to who their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher might be.

“I see dress robes have been added to our list of supplies,” said Ursula. “Whatever for?”

“The Ministry has decided to revive the Triwizard Tournament this year,” said Lucius.

“What’s that?” asked Draco. Lucius turned, eyebrows raised, to Ursula, challenging her to put the history lessons she’d received from Cygnus to use.

“It’s a magical contest between the three largest European Wizarding schools,” said Ursula slowly, recalling her grandfather’s words. “Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school has a champion compete for them, and brings a delegation for support. It was established… seven hundred years ago, but it hasn’t taken place for two hundred years, after the, er, after the death toll rose too high.”

Lucius nodded approvingly.

“Very good,” he said. “You, of course, will not be entering.”

“Oh?” said Ursula. She hadn’t any great desire to join the tournament, but she was surprised that she wasn’t allowed.

“It’s not ladylike,” said Lucius, “and far too dangerous.”

“Quite right,” said Narcissa, setting down her teacup. “Draco, you are not allowed to enter either. You’re too young.”

“But mother,” whined Draco. “And what part of the tournament do we need dress robes for?”

“A traditional part of the tournament is a ball on Christmas Eve,” said Ursula. “I imagine that is the reason.”

“I’ll arrange a fitting at Twilfitt and Tattings, shall I?” said Narcissa.

Ursula nodded, taking another sip of her tea.

“Hadrian Rowle will no doubt be there,” continued Narcissa, as casually as she could. “It would be good for the two of you to spend some quality time together.”

“Yes,” agreed Ursula. “It would.”

“The two of you have always gotten along, haven’t you?” said Lucius.

“Yes,” said Ursula. “We have.” After a moment, she added, “I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”

She did not miss the pleased look on Narcissa’s face as she exited the dining room.

Clutching the letter with her results happily, Ursula Flooed to Corvus Manor, fulfilling her promise to invite her friends over to celebrate their OWLs. She wrote a letter to each one, inviting them over for tea on Saturday. Before Saturday arrived, however, Ursula received another piece of news just two days after the shock of finding out about the tournament, and about Hadrian.

“Wilhelmina Tripe, your former governess, will be visiting for tea next week, on Saturday the thirteenth,” said Narcissa. “Our meeting will be at Corvus Manor, and your friends Ms. Shafiq and Ms. Farley will be joining us.”

Ursula’s fork stilled. She looked across the table at her aunt.

“Why, particularly?” she asked, keeping her reaction measured.

“You are all young women now, are you not?” said Narcissa. “With your future to consider, we felt it was an appropriate time to revisit your lessons.”

“Who’s  _ we _ ?”

“Your aunt and I,” said Lucius from behind his newspaper.

“I see.” Ursula took a sip of her tea before daring to ask, “Would this have anything to do with the news that Hadrian will be visiting Hogwarts this year?”

“It might,” said Narcissa. “It is always important to review one’s lessons, is it not? Good impressions are very important, particularly when it comes to suitors.”

“I understand,” said Ursula. “I’m looking forward to spending time with Hadrian this year, truly, I am.”

Narcissa looked most pleased. Lucius closed his newspaper and tossed it aside, reaching for a letter presented by Weesy. He read it quickly and raised an eyebrow, seemingly satisfied.

“You won’t have to wait that long,” he said. “I’ve just received word that the Rowle family will be joining us in the Top Box at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Really?” said Narcissa, looking up from her own letters. “What curious news. It’s most excellent, of course, and makes Madam Tripe’s visit all the more timely.”

“Yes,” said Ursula to herself. “What curious news indeed.”

~~~

“Is everything ready?” asked Ursula. Dimsey nodded, snapping his fingers, and at once the tables in the garden were decorated.

“Yes Mistress, Dimsey is almost done,” he said.

Ursula thanked him and headed through Corvus Manor towards the grand front doors, her heels tapping on the wood floor. She had just stepped outside onto the stone porch when a loud crack sounded and Adrian and Cassius arrived, both holding onto Cassius’s kindly old house elf.

“Hello boys,” called Ursula. She descended the curved steps to greet her friends. “Adrian, congratulations on becoming Quidditch Captain, and Cassius, if you get any taller I won’t be able to hug you.”

Cassius laughed.

“I missed you,” he said.

“Don’t I get a hug too?” protested Adrian. Ursula giggled and hugged him too, then led them back through the manor and out to the gardens, which looked particularly magnificent. Cassius whistled.

“My, my,” he said. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“It’s all Dimsey and Helgie’s doing,” said Ursula. “Please, sit.”

They sat at one of the round tables under the shade of a large weeping willow. Soon Vanessa arrived, also by house elf, followed by Gemma and Lilian both via the Floo.

“I think that’s all of us,” said Ursula, gesturing to her house elves to pour tea and bring out the miniature cakes and pastries.

“I see we all kept our promise not to share our OWL results until we were in person,” said Cassius, “so who’s first?”

“Seven ‘Outstandings’, two ‘Exceeds Expectations’,” said Gemma, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

“Eight ‘Outstandings’, two ‘Exceeds Expectations’,” countered Ursula, passing around her letter.

“Three ‘Outstandings’, five ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and one ‘Acceptable’ in History of Magic,” said Adrian. “Oh, and a ‘Poor’ in Divination. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Four ‘Outstandings’, five ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and an ‘Acceptable’ in History of Magic,” said Lilian. “Ha, I beat you by one OWL.”

“Show off,” teased Adrian.

“Three ‘Outstandings’, four ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and two ‘Acceptables’ in Astronomy and Divination,” said Vanessa. “Honestly, I don’t know how anyone is supposed to do well in that class.”

“Well Cassius?” said Ursula. “You’re up.”

“Five ‘Outstandings’, three ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and an ‘Acceptable’ in Herbology,” said Cassius, handing her his results for proof. “I don’t know how I managed to get an E in History of Magic. I thought for sure I was going to fail.”

“Yeah, and then you studied a whole bunch for it,” said Adrian. “So, who’s excited to drop classes for NEWTs? I’ve decided to drop Divination, obviously, and I’m swapping Care of Magical Creatures for Alchemy. I’m also dropping Astronomy, Charms, Herbology, and History of Magic. I’m sticking with what I want and what I need.”

“The only class I’m dropping is Arithmancy,” said Ursula, “and I’m swapping it for Alchemy.”

“Ten NEWTs?” said Cassius, making a retching sound. “Couldn’t be me. I’m dropping Herbology, History of Magic, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures — where I got an O, by the way — but I am adding Alchemy.”

“I’m not,” said Lilian. “I’m ditching Astronomy, History of Magic, and Care of Magical Creatures. I got an O in Muggle Studies and I’m thrilled to be carrying on with it.”

“I guess I’m the only one taking Care of Magical Creatures, then,” said Ursula. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I only wonder how many of our classmates will be joining me.”

“I’m only dropping Astronomy,” said Gemma, “but I’m also switching Arithmancy for Alchemy.”

“I’m going to take Alchemy,” said Vanessa. “I’m dropping Astronomy, History of Magic, Potions, and Divination. I’m also going to stick with Arithmancy.”

“In more exciting news,” said Adrian, “who’s ready for the special event this year?”

“What special event?” said Lilian immediately. She looked around at all of them and groaned when they grinned at her. “Don’t tell me you all know!”

“We might,” said Vanessa, reaching for an eclair.

“Come on guys,” complained Lilian. “You have to tell me.”

“We won’t spoil the surprise, Lils,” said Ursula.

“Seriously?” said Lilian. “My mom came home for work this one day all excited, but she won’t tell us why no matter how much we pester her, and now you won’t tell me either?”

“Nope,” said Cassius, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“The surprise is worth it, I promise,” said Ursula.

“Will you at least tell me what the dress robes are for?” said Lilian.

“A dance,” said Vanessa evasively.

“On a similar topic, I told y’all in my letters that Hadrian would be spending time at Hogwarts this year, right?” said Ursula.

“Because of the stupid event none of you will tell me about,” grumbled Lilian.

“Yes, exactly,” said Ursula. “Well — and Gemma and Vanessa already know this — Madam Tripe will be visiting next Saturday.”

“Why?” said Adrian.

“To have tea,” replied Ursula. “Why do you think?”

“So it will be Hadrian, then?” said Gemma.

“It seems like it,” replied Ursula.

“Mother has been taking me to tea with someone different nearly every week,” said Vanessa. “I’ve been to see Jacob Selwyn, both Lewis and Arthur Burke, Malcolm Greengrass, Marcus Flint, and Thaddeus Carrow, who goes to Durmstrang.”

“Lewis is nice,” said Ursula. “I can’t see you ending up with his younger brother, though.”

“Nor can I,” said Vanessa, wrinkling her nose.

“Speaking of, isn’t his sister’s wedding in like, three weeks?” said Adrian. Ursula nodded.

“It’s the week before we return to school,” she said.

“And Flint is just dreadful,” continued Vanessa. “Mother tried to get me to go see Peter, but I refused.”

“Understandable,” said Gemma. “I managed to convince my father that my ambition lay outside marriage, so hopefully he and my mother will hold off for a while yet. If I’m not going to marry one of the sacred twenty-eight’s sons, then there really is no rush.”

“I wish my mother saw it like you do,” said Cassius with a groan. “Or my father, for that matter. They’re determined that I marry up, so Mother has been dragging Aurelia and I to tea, as if she’s going to arrange two marriages at once. Aurelia hates it almost as much as I do.”

“Who did she make you go see?” asked Vanessa.

“Oh, the whole Selwyn family, with both Cressida and Jacob — and his little sister Charlotte — there,” said Cassius. “I wanted to punch him the whole time. I met with Rowena Avery, and she was nice, but she’s, like, one of my sister’s best friends so it was weird. We also had tea with the Notts, and Mother took Aurelia to see Arthur Burke and the Travers boy, and then I saw Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode  _ at the same time _ . Honestly, I’m not about to marry a fourth year. Thank goodness I talked her out of meeting with the Carrow twins. They’re  _ thirteen _ . I couldn’t have handled the embarrassment.”

“Yikes,” said Ursula.

“Yikes is right,” said Adrian. “I only had to visit Catherine Shaw and Guinevere Derrick. Mother is more concerned with finding Lachlan a wife. She’s trying to get a meeting with Rowena, and Cass, she also wants me to hang out with Aurelia.”

Cassius snorted.

“I don’t know if you could handle my sister,” he said.

“William hasn’t proposed to Cordelia yet,” said Vanessa. “It’s making Mother most anxious.”

“It’s making  _ my _ mother anxious,” said Gemma. “And Cordelia’s only my cousin.”

“Speaking of Lachlan,” said Ursula, “is it true he’s begun courting Veronica Higgs?”

“I swear you know everything,” said Adrian, shaking his head. “Of course it’s true.”

“What a weird world you all live in,” said Lilian. “No offense, but it makes me glad I’m not part of it.”

“None taken,” said Ursula. “It’s… a lot.”

“Are you ready for Madam Tripe’s visit?” asked Cassius.

“Not in the slightest,” said Ursula. “Besides, all I have to prepare for is for her to walk in and criticize absolutely everything.”

“She can’t be that bad,” said Lilian.

“Believe us,” said Gemma, while Vanessa and Ursula nodded fervently, “she can.”

“Well, we’re NEWT students now,” said Cassius, leaning back and tossing a cream puff into his mouth.

“To us!” said Ursula, raising her teacup. “And to a good year!”

“To us!” her friends echoed, and they all drank their tea.

“What I really want to hear about,” said Adrian, “is your internship.”

“Alright,” said Ursula. “So…” And she began to tell her tale.

The following Tuesday, Narcissa took Ursula to Diagon Alley for a fitting at Twilfitt and Tattings. They went into a private room where Ursula stepped on a stool, surrounded by mirrors, while a tall, middle aged witch with a shrewd face made adjustments to her gown. When that was over — the witch promised the gown would be delivered to Corvus Manor before Ursula left for school — Ursula bid her aunt goodbye and went down to the Leaky Cauldron to meet Lilian so they could shop together.

“There you are!” said Lilian.

“Hey Lils,” said Ursula. “Mr. Fenharrow, Alice, Miles.”

“Hello Ursula,” said Lilian’s dad warmly. Alice gave her a hug and Miles blushed and looked down. “Please, call me Theodore. You girls have fun, alright? Lilian, we’ll meet back here when you’re finished.”

Lilian looped her arm through Ursula’s and they went strolling off down Diagon Alley.

“We have a lot of supplies to get this year,” said Lilian, pulling out her list. “I hope you brought your bag with the Undetectable Extension Charm on it.”

“I did,” said Ursula. “Here, let’s go to the Apothecary for Potions supplies.”

They stopped in Slug & Jiggers Apothecary first to get all the ingredients they needed for NEWT Potions. Then Ursula bought a new pair of gloves and they both bought broom polish at Quality Quidditch Supplies. After buying new quills, ink, and parchment at Scribbulus Writing Instruments and treats for Agatha at Eeylops Owl Emporium, they popped into Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment.

Ken had promised that if Ursula made it into NEWT Astronomy, he would buy her a nicer telescope, and it was waiting for her when she walked in. It was magnificent, with two-toned fastenings, multiple eyeglasses for different views, and her name engraved on the side. It made her immensely grateful to have her bag, because the telescope was bulky and heavy.

They decided to come back to Flourish & Blotts, after realizing just how many books they needed to buy, and stopped at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor before going to Madam Malkin’s, where they bought new school uniforms, and Lilian got fitted for her dress for the Yule Ball — which Ursula still hadn’t told her existed.

Ursula and Lilian strolled further down Diagon Alley, picking up the odds and ends they needed like cat treats from the Magical Menagerie and books that weren’t textbooks from Whizz Hard Books, where Lilian’s dad worked. Finally it was time to get all their new textbooks from Flourish & Blotts, which was as crowded as ever when they walked in.

“Here,” said Lilian, grabbing a pair of books off the nearest shelf. “ _ Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7 _ .”

“I found  _ Useful Charms and Charming Uses _ ,” said Ursula, exchanging the copies with Lilian. “Maybe we should split up.”

“I’ll take Herbology, Potions, and Ancient Runes, shall I?” said Lilian. Ursula nodded and they split up from one another.

Ursula found two copies of  _ Confronting the Faceless _ , two of  _ A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration _ , and one each for herself of her new books for Alchemy, History of Magic, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures. When she met back up with Lilian, she traded the double copies for  _ Flesh-Eating Trees of the World _ ,  _ Advanced Potion Making _ , and  _ Advanced Rune Translation _ . Lilian had also gotten her new Muggle Studies textbook.

“Whew,” said Lilian as she set her stack on the counter to pay. “My arms are aching.”

“Mine too,” said Ursula, who was relieved when she could shove the ten new textbooks into her bag. “I’m glad we got to hang out again.”

“Me too. How are you getting home?” asked Lilian, as Ursula walked her back to the Leaky Cauldron.

“My aunt is meeting me at my flat further up the street,” said Ursula. “It’s at Number 93. She had some business to attend to with a friend.”

“Hopefully we’ll run into each other at the World Cup,” said Lilian, waving as she crossed through the archway back into the Leaky Cauldron. “If not, see you on the train!”

Ursula waved goodbye, then turned and headed back up the street until she reached Number 93, Diagon Alley. Her flat sat above a dusty old store that sold cheap antiques and some basic supplies. Normally Ursula would use the stairs on the side of the building to reach her flat, rather than go through the shop to the backroom, but today she decided to pop in and see how the owner was doing. A bell rang gently as she opened the door and the dust made her sneeze. A fat cat rubbed up against her legs.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington,” she called.

“Who’s there?” said a gruff voice. “Black? Is that you, child?”

“Yes, it’s me,” said Ursula. Bartholomew Harrington was a grumpy old man with short grey hair who liked to sit behind the counter and do his crossword puzzle, but he seemed to have a soft spot for her. “How’s business been lately?”

Mr. Harrington snorted.

“Bad,” he grunted. “I’m thinking of selling, and moving to the sea with Dorothy here.”

His cat had jumped up on the counter and was rubbing her head against his hand.

“That’s too bad,” said Ursula.

“Say lassie,” said Mr. Harrington, “you wouldn’t be interested in buying the shop, would you? You could sell it to someone else after I’m gone.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Harrington,” said Ursula. “You’re planning to sell for sure, then?”

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Harrington, sitting back in his chair. “I’ll decide by Christmas, though, so I can drink the firewhiskey I saved for retirement.”

“I’ll keep an eye out in the Daily Prophet,” said Ursula, “and I’ll owl you if I decide to make an offer.”

“Alright,” said Mr. Harrington. “Have a good day now, Black.”

“You too, Mr. Harrington.”

Ursula passed through the dusty, moth-eaten curtains between the front of the store and the back, and headed up the stairs to her flat. She found her aunt already waiting for her, seated in the sitting room of sorts, reading a book. Narcissa shut the book with a snap and stood when Ursula walked in.

“Hello, Ursula. Have a good time?” she asked.

“Yes, Aunt Narcissa,” said Ursula. “I got everything I need.”

“Good,” said Narcissa. “Shall we?”

She Apparated Ursula back to Corvus Manor. Ursula had been spending more time there now that she was older, so that it felt more like home and less like she was visiting her grandparents every time she walked through the door. When she had packed away her stuff into her trunk, she had Helgie take her to Malfoy Manor for dinner.

There were a number of things that needed to happen before Madam Tripe’s visit on Saturday. Ursula spent the majority of her days at Corvus Manor, working to sort through the many, many possessions and antiques throughout the house as the house elves cleaned. Weesy even came to help on Friday. Even though Madam Tripe would only be in the entrance hall and the parlor, Narcissa insisted that the whole manor be cleaned, and Ursula was nervous enough that she agreed. Corvus Manor was sparkling by the time Saturday arrived, which was much too soon for Ursula’s liking.

Madam Tripe was set to arrive at three, so Ursula, Vanessa, Gemma, and their respective guardians were ready half an hour early. All three girls were extremely nervous and dressed their best.

Ursula wore a cream blouse, her mother’s pearls, and a plum skirt that stopped at her knees. Her earrings — the ruby ones from Hadrian — were the same shade as her skirt, and her long, curly black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, pinned with silver hairpins. She stood straight and tall on the front steps of Corvus Manor as she waited for Madam Tripe to arrive. Narcissa stood beside her, her face carefully composed to be neutral.

Next to them, so that the six women fanned out from the door, were Vanessa and her mother, and then Gemma and hers. Vanessa wore a pale pink blouse and creamy white skirt, and her mother, a slender, proud woman with the same blonde hair and fine features as her daughter, kept snapping at her to stand up straight. Gemma, in a matching light blue skirt and blouse, kept anxiously adjusting her hair, until her mother Camille told her it was fine and to stand still. They all stilled as Madam Tripe Apparated onto the driveway.

Madam Tripe was a frightening, hawkish woman who looked rather like a vulture. She was tall and thin, her face set into a perpetual frown. She had made a career out of making young girls into proper young women and she hadn’t achieved those results through kindness. Ursula straightened a little more instinctively as Madam Tripe approached.

“Welcome,” said Ursula, taking a smooth step forward. She was the hostess, technically, as this was her house, so she had to do the talking, and with Madam Tripe, everything was the test. “It’s been so long since we last spoke, Madam Tripe. It’s a pleasure to have you here today.”

“Yes, well, it’s nice to see the three of you haven’t forgotten all of your lessons,” said Madam Tripe with a sniff. Ursula kept the pleasant smile on her face and gestured to the door.

“Shall we?” she said. Dimsey opened the door and Ursula led Madam Tripe and the rest of their party into the parlor, where Helgie was putting out the finishing touches for tea.

“The mark of a good house elf is not to be seen or heard,” scowled Madam Tripe. “What kind of mistress are you?”

Ursula took a quick step in front of Helgie, in case Madam Tripe decided to strike her.

“Please, sit,” said Ursula, as Helgie disappeared with a crack. Madam Tripe sat stiffly on one of the couches as Ursula handed her a teacup, and the others sat around her. Every lesson Ursula had ever had was running through her mind right now.

_ Ankles crossed, not knees, sit up straight, look demure, smile pleasantly, don’t fidget, don’t fiddle with your hair or your necklace or your skirt… _

“Who are you instructing currently?” asked Ursula.

“Eleanor Nott, Margaret Bulstrode, and Sybilla Avery,” said Madam Tripe. “All have the makings of appropriate young women, and will be attending Hogwarts for the first time this year.”

“I’ve heard good things about Sybilla from my cousin Cordelia,” said Gemma. “Sybilla is her cousin from the other side of the family, of course, but she seems like a nice girl.”

“Nice enough,” agreed Madam Tripe. “I expect you all performed well on your OWLs?”

“Vanessa achieved nine OWLs,” said Helena Shafiq.

“So did Gemma,” said Camille quickly.

“Ursula achieved ten,” said Narcissa proudly.

“Respectable,” said Madam Tripe, inclining her head. “Very respectable, all of you.”

“I was informed of the event taking place at Hogwarts this year,” said Madam Tripe. “I take it the Rowle boy, as well as potentially a Carrow or an Avery, will be there?”

“He will,” said Narcissa. “The Rowle family will also be joining us at the Quidditch World Cup.”

Madam Tripe turned an appraising eye on Ursula.

“So,” she said. “You understand what this means, do you not?”

“I do,” said Ursula. “Hadrian is quite the gentleman, and I am looking forward to seeing him again. He gave me these earrings at Christmas.”

“An appropriate, if not slightly forward gift,” said Madam Tripe. “It is vital for your future that you make the appropriate effort to retain your suitor. That goes for the two of you as well,” she added, turning to Vanessa and Gemma. “It may not be as necessary to secure a respectable marriage —” Ursula took the insult about her birth gracefully “— but it is still an important consideration.”

“We haven’t picked a match for Vanessa yet,” said Helena. “William is, of course, courting Cordelia Avery.”

“My congratulations,” said Madam Tripe dryly. Helena’s face was alight with pride.

“Edward, of course, is resisting marriage but he’s young so there’s plenty of time,” she continued. Ursula knew Helena was disappointed that she wasn’t available. “William’s match takes Gideon Avery off of Vanessa’s list, at her insistence, so we’ve narrowed it to just four, possibly three, suitors.” After a moment where no one spoke, she added, “We may strike Malcolm Greengrass from the list if he pursues Vera Bole.”

“Which leaves Lewis Burke, who graduated this last year, Thaddeus Carrow, who may be coming to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, and Jacob Selwyn, who is in my year,” finished Vanessa.

“All would make fine matches,” said Madam Tripe, with something like approval in her voice. “You must hang onto them. Gemma?”

“Actually —” began Gemma, but her mother quickly cut her off before she could tell Madam Tripe that she was focusing on a career first.

“We’re keeping her options open for now,” said Camille. “There are two boys in her year and several in the year above who we think would be profitable matches.”

“You don’t think a match within the sacred twenty-eight is necessary, then?” said Madam Tripe, the implied  _ or possible _ at the end of her words a sleight to the Farleys, despite their blood being as pure as any, and Camille being an Avery by birth.

“Gemma has always maintained good connections with these young men,” replied Camille evenly, “and her father and I feel that she should get to know her options a bit better before we settle on one or two.”

“So that is your task,” said Madam Tripe. She steepled her fingers. “Gemma, stand up.”

Gemma did as instructed. She didn’t dare question Madam Tripe. There was a nervous silence throughout the room as the governess contemplated her former pupil.

“Not bad,” she said finally. “Shoulders back, chin down a bit, and  _ smile _ , for Merlin’s sake. You’re trying to  _ attract _ men, not challenge one to a fight.”

Gemma corrected herself awkwardly, and Madam Tripe gestured for Vanessa to stand up next.

“Decent,” said Madam Tripe. “Good posture, keep your arms by your sides, not fiddling with your hem. If you hang your head any further, you’ll be looking at the floor. Look up. No, no, not that far up, just look up through your lashes. Good girl.”

Vanessa sat, smiling demurely, and sipped her tea. Ursula stood up last.

“Hmm,” said Madam Tripe, eyeing her critically. “Men don’t like women who are more muscular than they are.”

That was hardly fair. Ursula was lean, but she was by no means buff.

“Try not to look so eager,” continued Madam Tripe. “Good smile, mouth closed, and stand tall with your feet together. That’s it. Passable, I suppose. I hope all three of you remember to be charming, otherwise looks alone won’t catch you a man of substance.”

“Thank you, Madam Tripe,” said Ursula, keeping her empty, pleasant smile on her face. “Shall I see you out?”

“No, I can find the way back,” said Madam Tripe, rising to her considerable height. “Can I expect an update on your progress.”

“Hopefully,” said Narcissa. The others followed as she stood. “Thank you for coming.”

“With a few issues, all of which can be easily resolved, I find myself pleased to report that you have three proper young women,” said Madam Tripe. “I wish them well.”

That was unusually kind of her, though Ursula, as Madam Tripe strode to the door of the parlor.

“Oh, and Ursula,” said Madam Tripe, turning back at the door. “Do something about those curtains. Has that feline of yours decided they’re his newest plaything?”

Ursula looked at the window to which she pointed. One of the curtain tassels was undone. Of course Madam Tripe had spotted it.

“It will be fixed in no time,” she said. “Good day to you.”

“You as well,” said Madam Tripe, before sweeping out into the hallway. Once the front doors had shut behind her and they heard the soft pop to indicate that she had Disapparated, they all breathed a sigh of relief.


	58. The Quidditch World Cup

“Alright,” said Lucius, checking his watch, “I believe it’s time to go. Is everyone ready?”

“Yes, Father,” said Draco eagerly. Ursula nodded. She and Draco took Weesy’s hand so Weesy could Apparate them from Malfoy Manor to the Quidditch World Cup.

It was clear they were standing in a forest when they arrived, with Lucius and Narcissa a few feet away. Weesy Disapparated, and all around them Ursula saw other wizards and witches appearing at random, crunching twigs underfoot. As they walked through the forest, the noise of thousands of people gathered together, teeming with excitement, reached their ears.

They walked for a while through the crowded fields, passing long rows of tents and large crowds of people. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical it was a wonder the Muggles at the gates of each field weren’t getting more suspicious.

“Why were Muggles hired anyway?” said Ursula under her breath to Draco. “This is a  _ wizarding _ event, is it not?”

The idea of an obviously magical tent was not lost on the Malfoys, who, upon reaching their allotted plot of land — Lucius scoffed at the lopsided wooden sign that say  _ Malfoy _ on it in block letters — erected a grey two story tent designed to look like stone with a fountain in the front yard. If the tent was clearly magical on the outside, then it was even more obvious on the inside, with three large bedrooms, each with their own attached bathroom, a kitchen, a dining room, and a sitting room.

Over the course of the afternoon, Ursula met a number of high ranking ministry officials and was engaged in conversation by many wealthy pureblooded families. Adrian and Cassius both came by, and Vanessa and her family stayed to talk for a while, while Gemma very quickly said hello. Ursula even managed to sneak off long enough to find Lilian nearby, though she had to weave through a number of fields to get there.

By the time she returned, the number of visitors to their tent had dwindled to who Narcissa considered to be the most important ones.

“Ah, Ursula, there you are,” said Narcissa, taking her by the wrist and leading her over to where Lucius and Draco — who looked rather bored — were conversing with a family of four. “You remember Montgomery and Anastasia Rowle? Their eldest son, Hadrian? His brother, Caspian?”

“Of course,” said Ursula, smiling sweetly. She nodded to Montgomery and Anastasia and focused most of her shy smile on Hadrian. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you,” said Hadrian, flashing her a smile in return. “And yourself?”

“Most excellent, as it happens,” said Ursula. His mother looked most pleased as his father stepped forward to shake Ursula’s hand.

“Miss Black,” said Montgomery. “It is a pleasure to see you again. We heard you recently scored very highly on your examinations. Our congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “Is it true you’ve finished renovating your summer house in France? It must’ve been quite an undertaking.”

“All worth it in the end,” said Montgomery.

“Nothing you’re unfamiliar with, surely, what with your changes to the garden at Corvus Manor,” said Anastasia, hinting, “I would love to see them one day.”

“Perhaps that can be arranged,” said Ursula.

“Why don’t the two of you take a walk, hmm?” said Narcissa, gesturing towards Ursula and Hadrian.

“What a marvelous idea,” said Anastasia. “Hadrian, you can show Ursula where we’re staying.”

Hadrian and Ursula set off, leaving two sets of very pleased adults and two bored teenage boys behind. They walked in amiable silence through the crowds for a while, before Ursula said, “Did your mother make you wear nearly a full suit, or your father?”

“Father, actually,” said Hadrian with a laugh. He was a suit jacket away from looking like he was ready to attend a garden party. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he tugged at the tie around his neck until Ursula told him to just take it off. “I’d expect your aunt to want you to wear a skirt?”

“She did, and then I pointed out it wasn’t sensible,” said Ursula. “We compromised.” She was referring to the lightweight green blazer she wore, over a white blouse and dark grey pants.

“So how have you been?” asked Hadrian. “Please tell me you dumped that boyfriend of yours.”

“I’m sure you already know the answer to that,” said Ursula.

“Good,” said Hadrian. “Father already mentioned your OWLs, but how was your internship?”

“Oh, it was marvelous,” said Ursula. Talk of her internship carried them through a portion of the field they were in that was entirely green with Ireland supporters, and well into a nearby crowd of tents for Bulgaria.

“When we come for the tournament, I’ll introduce you,” said Hadrian, as they passed yet another tent with a picture of Viktor Krum tacked up over the entrance.

“Really?” said Ursula, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“He’s one of my best mates,” said Hadrian. “I know it sounds like I’m bragging or exaggerating, but I’m not. We’ve shared a dorm since second year.”

“In that case, I’d love to meet him,” said Ursula. “I hadn’t realized he was still in school. I thought he graduated last year.”

“Nope,” said Hadrian. “He turns eighteen in a couple of weeks.”

“Fascinating,” said Ursula. They were out of the maze of Bulgarian supporters now. “Where, exactly, is your tent?”

“Er, not that far from yours, actually,” said Hadrian. “But I figured the longer we were away from our families, the better. Especially since I think we need to talk about, well… us.”

“I agree,” said Ursula. “Just maybe not here.”

“Soon, okay?” said Hadrian.

“Soon,” agreed Ursula.

They did, eventually make it to Hadrian’s tent, which was indeed only a short walk away from the Malfoys’. Then Ursula returned to her own tent for a while, largely to eat dinner, before setting out again with Hadrian to buy souvenirs for the game.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes — green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria — which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

Ursula bought a dancing shamrock hat and a green rosette while Hadrian, loyal to his friend, bought a red rosette, matching scarf, a miniature Ivanova, one of the Bulgarian chasers, for himself and a miniature Moran, one of the Irish ones, for Ursula. Ursula was just telling Hadrian she didn’t need Omnioculars because she had a pair of collapsible opera glasses when someone spoke behind them.

“Hey, Black, fancy seeing you here.”

“Ah, hello boys,” said Ursula, turning around to see Fred and George.

“Who do we have here?” said Fred.

“This is Hadrian Rowle,” said Ursula. “He’s my friend from Durmstrang. Hadrian, this is Fred and George Weasley.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Hadrian, shaking their hands.

“I’m Fred,” said George.

“And I’m George,” said Fred.

They stared at Hadrian for a moment, grinning identically, as Hadrian tried to figure out what was up with what they just said.

“Hadrian, they’re tricking you,” said Ursula. “This one is Fred and that one is George. They do it to everyone.”

“Funny,” said Hadrian, but he sounded genuinely amused.

“No souvenirs, boys?” said Ursula.

“We spent it all on a bet with Bagman,” said George.

“That Ireland would win, but Krum would catch the Snitch,” added Fred.

“An interesting bet,” said Ursula. “But you can’t attend the Quidditch World Cup without anything to prove you were there.” Before they could protest, she leaned over to the nearest salesman and said, “Two green rosettes, please.”

“We couldn’t possibly —” protested Fred. Ursula shoved the rosettes into his and George’s hands.

“Nonsense,” she said. “Nice to see you boys. Enjoy the match!”

She took Hadrian’s arm and steered him away.

“Looks like someone else stole your girlfriend,” said George, far too loudly for Fred’s liking, as they walked away from Ursula and Hadrian.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” said Fred. “What makes you say that, anyway?”

“Because you definitely have a crush on her,” said George.

“No I don’t —”

“Yes you do,” said George.

“No I don’t —”

“Yes you do —”

Their bickering carried them all the way back to their tent. Meanwhile, Ursula had not heard their conversation, and had returned to her tent to wait for the match to begin. Soon, a deep, booming gong sounded from somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

“That means it’s time,” said Lucius, checking his watch. “Come on Draco, Ursula, let’s go.”

He and Narcissa led the way into the woods along the lantern-lit trail, meeting the Rowle family shortly after they entered the trees. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium, surrounded by immense gold walls.

“We have a long walk to the Top Box!” said Montgomery Rowle as they passed into the enormous stadium. “It seats a hundred-thousand!”

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Ursula and the others kept climbing, until at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About thirty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in three rows here, the majority of which were already occupied.

The scene below was a bit overwhelming. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant’s hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Ursula saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

**_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family — safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burglar Buzzer . . . Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! . . . Gladrags Wizardwear — London, Paris, Hogsmeade . . ._ **

In the front row, Ursula saw a whole line of redheads. It seemed everyone but Mrs. Weasley was here, plus Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. As Ursula entered the Top Box behind Lucius, they all turned around quickly when Cornelius Fudge spoke.

“Ah, and here’s Lucius!” said Fudge. Lucius led the way as they edged down the second row of seats to those just behind Mr. Weasley. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, Ursula, and Hadrian all sat in the second row, with Hadrian’s parents and his brother behind them.

“Ah, Fudge,” said Lucius, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. “How are you? I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? Our son, Draco? Or our niece, Ursula Black?”

“How do you do, how do you do?” said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Narcissa and Ursula. “And Montgomery Rowle, how are you old chap? Might these be your sons?”

“Yes,” said Montgomery. “You remember my wife Anastasia, and these are my sons, Hadrian and Caspian.”

“Very good, very good,” said Fudge, nodding to Anastasia. “And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can’t understand a word I’m saying anyway, so never mind. And let’s see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?”

It was a tense moment. Lucius Mr. Weasley looked at each other and Ursula vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts’ bookshop, and they had had a fight. Lucius’s cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

“Good lord, Arthur,” Lucius said softly. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?”

Ursula winced. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and Hadrian squeezed her hand.

Fudge, who wasn’t listening, said, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”

“How — how nice,” said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Ursula coughed slightly, just enough to remind Lucius to keep moving, as he seemed to have stopped to stare at Ron and his friends. Lucius sat at the end of the row, with Draco between him and Narcissa, and then Ursula and Hadrian, who ended up right behind Charlie, Fred, and George.

“Long time, no see,” said Charlie, grinning at her.

“How’s being a dragonologist working out?” said Ursula.

“Fantastic,” said Charlie. “It’s —”

He stopped talking, as just then Ludo Bagman had charged into the box.

“Everyone ready?” he said, his round face gleaming with excitement. “Minister — ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, Ludo,” said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said “ _ Sonorus _ !” and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message ( **_Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans — A Risk With Every Mouthful!_ ** ) and now showed  **BULGARIA: 0** , **IRELAND: 0** .

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. Hadrian cheered. Out onto the field glided a hundred veela, and once the music started, they began to dance.

The veela had the strangest effect on many of the wizards — and some of the witches — in the stadium. Around Ursula, several of the Weasleys were acting most peculiar, and Narcissa had to tug Draco back into his seat. Hadrian, on the other hand, looked completely unaffected.

“And now,” roared Ludo Bagman’s voice, “kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it —

“Leprechaun gold!” shouted Hadrian as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. The shamrock itself was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!”

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

“Ivanova!”

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

“Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand —  _ Krum _ !”

Hadrian whistled as the crowd exploded with cheers for the Bulgarian Seeker. Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey.

“And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!” yelled Bagman. “Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand —  _ Lynch _ !”

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Ursula’s eyeglasses, intended for the opera, zoomed in enough to see  _ ‘Firebolt’ _ on each of their brooms and the players’ names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs. 

“And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!”

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with an enormous, walrus-like mustache, strode out onto the field wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. He mounted his broom and kicked the crate open, and with a sharp blast on his whistle Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

The Irish chasers zoomed close together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran’s path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it. But the next second Quigley, one of the Irish Beaters, had sent a Bludger soaring towards Levski, who rolled, dropping the Quaffle, which was caught by Moran and passed quickly to Troy —

“TROY SCORES!” roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. “Ten zero to Ireland!”

Ursula cheered as Troy did a lap of honor around the field. The leprechauns on the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.

The Irish Chasers were superb. Ursula wished she could play as well as they did. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another’s minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Ursula’s chest kept squeaking their names: “ _ Troy — Mullet — Moran! _ ” And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria’s first goal. The veela danced in celebration, and when they were finished play resumed, with Bulgaria in possession.

“Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh I say!” roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they were falling instead of diving.

“They’re going to crash!” said Ursula. She was half right. At the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

“It’s time-out!” yelled Bagman’s voice, “as trained medi-wizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!”

While Lynch was being revived, Krum was busy circling high above looking for the Snitch. Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything they had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Ursula almost didn’t catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa’s long, shrill whistle blast, confirmed that it was a foul.

“And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!” Bagman informed the roaring spectators. “And — yes, it’s a penalty to Ireland!”

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words “HA, HA, HA!” The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

“Look at the referee!” yelled Hadrian, who was once again unaffected by the veela.

Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

“Now, we can’t have that!” said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. “Somebody slap the referee!”

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself, and he looked exceptionally embarrassed as he started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

“And unless I’m much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!” said Bagman’s voice. “Now there’s something we haven’t seen before… Oh this could turn nasty…”

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words “HEE, HEE, HEE.” Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians’ arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

“Two penalties for Ireland!” shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. “And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle…”

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

“Foul!” roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

“Foul!” echoed Ludo Bagman’s magically magnified voice. “Dimitrov skins Moran — deliberately flying to collide there — and it’s got to be another penalty — yes, there’s the whistle!”

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. The Quaffle was changing hands so fast it was hard to follow.

“Levski — Dimitrov — Moran — Troy — Mullet — Ivanova — Moran again — Moran — MORAN SCORES!”

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members’ wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov —

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum’s nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn’t blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and it was easy to see why; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

Lynch, on the other hand, had just gone into another dive.

“He’s seen the Snitch!” shouted Hadrian.

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was on his tail. There were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again —

Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

“Viktor got it!” shouted Hadrian. “He’s got the Snitch!”

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing  **BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170** across the crowd, who didn’t seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

“IRELAND WINS!” Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don’t think any of us were expecting that!”

“Vell, ve fought bravely,” said a gloomy voice further down the row. Ursula looked; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

“You can speak English!” said Fudge, sounding outraged. “And you’ve been letting me mime everything all day!”

“Vell, it vos very funny,” said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging. Ursula giggled.

“And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!” roared Bagman.

Ursula’s eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, she saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he’d been using sign language all day for nothing.

“Let’s have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Bulgaria!” Bagman shouted. And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. He seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum’s name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Ursula clapped ecstatically.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly’s, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, “ _ Quietus _ .”

“They’ll be talking about this one for years,” he said hoarsely, “a really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn’t have lasted longer… Ah yes… yes, I owe you… how much?”

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

~~~

“They really shouldn’t have made a bet with Bagman,” said Hadrian worriedly, as they slowly descended the purple-carpeted stairs. “He’s deep in debt with the goblins; he might try to cheat them out of their money.”

“It’ll all work out,” said Ursula. “Just to stop you worrying, I’ll make sure it does. Now, let’s focus on celebrating.”

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the Malfoys’ tent, the adults shared a glass of champagne in celebration, sipping it and talking in hushed tones. Draco and Caspian were excitedly recounting the match, and Ursula and Hadrian talked quietly over butterbeer.

Eventually the Rowles left, their sons in tow. Hadrian bowed to Ursula and kissed her hand, to the delight of his mother and Narcissa, who’s pleased looks were plain on their faces. Had Ursula not been so elated about the match, she might have noticed the urgency with which Lucius and Montgomery spoke to one another.

Seeing none of that, she soon put on her pajamas and went to bed, but all too soon after she was woken abruptly from sleep.

“Ursula, wake up!”

Ursula blinked, opening her eyes to find her aunt standing over her, speaking in a hushed voice.

“Quickly now,” she said. “Take Draco and — and go with Hadrian into the forest and wait there. Quickly now, go on.”

“What’s going on?” asked Ursula as she pulled on her dressing gown. Dimly she could hear shouts and screams from outside, different than the celebrations she had heard earlier. Narcissa’s face was paler than usual and looked almost fearful.

“No time to explain,” she said. “Just go. Quickly.”

Ursula grabbed her wand and put on her shoes before leaving the tent, dragging Draco behind her. Hadrian was waiting outside the tent, jacket thrown over his t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Ursula gripped his arm as they pushed through the crowd.

“Where’s your brother?” asked Ursula.

“He went home with Mother an hour ago,” said Hadrian.

“Look!” hooted Draco. To Ursula’s horror, he was pointing at the crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, who were marching slowly across the field. Their heads were hooded and their faces masked.

What was worse was what floated above them. Four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

“Oh my,” whispered Ursula. Hadrian’s face was blank but Ursula knew what he was thinking.

Because those were Death Eaters. And both Lucius and Montgomery still had the Dark Mark on their arms.

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. Hadrian pulled Ursula towards the forest as the screaming got louder.

“Come on, Draco,” said Ursula, because Draco had stopped to watch the scene with an odd gleam in his eye.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air.

“ _ Lumos _ ,” said Ursula and Hadrian together, the tips of their wands lighting up so they could see where they were going. Hadrian was of age, but Ursula figured now was enough of an emergency to justify using magic.

Unfortunately, as her wand lit up, Ursula realized Draco was no longer behind her and Hadrian; in fact, she couldn’t find him anywhere.

“Oh no,” said Ursula. “Draco?”

There was no answer, or none she could hear through the shouting and screaming. Hadrian pulled her further into the woods, breaking away from the straggling groups of their fellow matchgoers, mostly teenagers like themselves.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Ursula stared, horrified, back at the campsite, the scene burning into her eyes.

“What are we going to do?” whispered Ursula.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find Draco,” said Hadrian reassuringly.

“No, not that! What are we going to do about us — about everything?” said Ursula. “What we need is a plan.”

“We’ll make one,” said Hadrian. “We have to.”

They plunged deeper still into the woods, picking their way slowly through the trees and bushes, using their wands to guide them over exposed roots. They stumbled into a small, dark clearing where they could see the starry sky overhead, and stopped as bushes rustled in front of them and low voices sounded.

“Who’s there?” said Ursula. “Draco?”

“Fortunately, no,” came a familiar voice, and in the light of her and Hadrian’s wands, three redheads stepped through the trees and into the clearing.

“Oh, Fred, it’s you,” said Ursula.

“The one and only,” said Fred. “Er — are you alright?”

“I’m — we’re — fine,” said Ursula. “You? George? Ginny?”

“We’re okay,” piped up Ginny. She looked very small, her jacket thrown over her nightgown, standing between her brothers who both had their wands out.

“Good,” said Ursula. She felt more awkward than ever, standing in the forest in the middle of the night in her pajamas and stupid stilk dressing gown, gripping Hadrian’s arm like a lifeline. “Stay safe. Come on, Hadrian.”

They left the Weasleys and wandered through the woods, until, to Ursula’s relief, she heard Draco’s drawling voice.

“I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?”

“Draco!” said Ursula sharply. She and Hadrian stepped into the open, where Draco was leaning lazily against a tree and antagonizing Ron, Harry, and Hermione. “Now is  _ not _ the time. Come on.”

“Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” sneered Draco.

“Draco,  _ come on _ ,” repeated Ursula, her voice switching to a much more stern and serious tone. The trio looked surprised that she was on their side, but most of all they looked angrily at Draco. Ursula pulled Draco away, clutching his upper arm a little tighter than she might have normally.

“Look at them,” said Draco disdainfully, as they passed a huddle of teenagers whispering anxiously among themselves a little further down the path.

“What’s gotten into you?” exclaimed Ursula. “Draco, this isn’t a game!”

“But Ursula,” began Draco.

“Your cousin’s right,” said Hadrian severely. “Let’s go back to the tents now.”

“But Father —”

“We’ll talk about this later,” said Ursula, leading him by the arm back towards their tent. “You don’t understand. You just don’t understand.”


	59. The Ferret

Ursula hadn’t quite recovered from the events of the Quidditch World Cup by the time it was time to return to Hogwarts. She hadn’t said anything about what happened to Lucius, and neither he nor Narcissa mentioned it. In the week before they returned, she attended the wedding of Josephine Burke, Lewis’s older sister, to Reginald Fawley, and her dress was delivered from Twilfitt & Tattings.

It was a slightly subdued party that arrived at King’s Cross on September 1st, but the hint of awkwardness would be indistinguishable to anyone else. It was raining quite heavily when they arrived, and it had been for several days at that point. Ursula bid her aunt and uncle goodbye, and endured yet another reminder about Hadrian, and then she boarded the train to find her friends.

“How was the prefects’ meeting?” asked Lilian, as Cassius and Ursula entered the compartment half an hour into the train ride.

“Boring,” said Cassius with a yawn.

“Terence is the new Head Boy,” said Ursula, sitting down beside Adrian. “He seemed absolutely flabbergasted by the news.”

Terence Higgs, the well mannered and polite, if at times rather skittish, seventh year had not taken to his role with quite as much zeal as Percy Weasley, but then again, who could? Among the new fifth year prefects was Rolf Scamander, which made Ursula quite proud, though she didn’t share it.

“Speaking of news,” began Lilian, and Ursula knew she was going to ask about the special event again, “I take it you all still won’t tell me?”

“Not a chance,” said Cassius, now propping his feet up.

“I heard from Mother and Father that the Travers family is hosting the Christmas Ball this year,” said Vanessa, with a slight air of smugness. “All but their youngest son have graduated, but since many of the usual guests won’t be in attendance, there was no resistance…”

“Why?” pressed Lilian. “Is something happening at Christmas? Come on, please tell me.”

“I expect Professor Dumbledore will make an announcement tonight,” said Ursula. She checked the time using Cassius’s watch. Since he was almost seventeen, his parents had given him one early. “Hmm. I suppose I had better patrol the corridors.”

“I’ll go later,” said Cassius.

“I just know Draco’s going to go on and on about how Uncle Lucius nearly sent him to Durmstrang,” said Ursula. “Honestly, the way he goes on about it. I was far closer to attending Beauxbatons than he ever was to Durmstrang.”

“Why didn’t you?” said Adrian.

“My father insisted I attend Hogwarts,” replied Ursula.

“What are Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?” said Lilian. “I mean, I’ve heard of them, of course, but what makes them so different from Hogwarts?”

“Durmstrang puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts,” said Cassius. “My father nearly sent me there. They’re super elitist as well — I was halfway through the application process before Mother decided on Hogwarts.”

“And Beauxbatons is pretty much the opposite,” said Vanessa. “It has a reputation for beautiful magic and beautiful, elegant, and well educated pupils.”

“Beauxbatons is in France, right?” said Lilian. “Where’s Durmstrang?”

“Well, no one knows exactly, because it’s Unplottable,” piped up Gemma. “But it must be somewhere very cold, because they have fur capes as a part of the uniform.”

“You can ask Hadrian,” said Ursula, standing up. “I’ll be back soon.”

After a quick sweep of the train, Ursula returned to her compartment. The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor and the teenagers eagerly bought food to tide them over until dinnertime.

Eventually, they all changed into their robes as the sky outside got very dark, to the point where it was pitch-black and still raining when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station. As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Ursula opened her umbrella, and though it did little to weather the rain that lashed against them, it kept her hair fairly dry, for which she was grateful. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly overhead.

They climbed gratefully into one of the thestral-drawn carriages, shivering in the cold. The door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

The carriage went through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Ursula could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

Cassius held the umbrella for all of them, getting soaked himself as he helped Ursula, Vanessa, Lilian, and Gemma out of the carriage and up the steps into the dry castle.

Or, thanks to Peeves and his supply of water balloons, the mostly dry castle. Vanessa squealed as one exploded at her feet, sending a wave of cold water into their shoes. Ursula, having reclaimed her umbrella, snapped it open just in time, saving her and Lilian from a large, red water balloon that Peeves chose to drop on their heads at that very moment.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Floating twenty feet above them was Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

“PEEVES!” yelled an angry voice. “Peeves, come down here at ONCE!”

Professor McGonagall arrived on the scene, but she slipped on the wet floor and had to grab onto the nearest student, who happened to be Hermione Granger, to avoid falling.

“Come on,” said Adrian, leading the way into the Great Hall as Peeves took aim at a group of fifth year girls. “I’m soaking wet as is.”

Thanks to the blessing that was magic, they were able to dry themselves off and were quite revealed not to suffer an entire feast in damp clothes with dripping hair. The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.

“Anyone of interest being Sorted this year?” said Cassius. They had seen Hagrid leading a straggling line of first years toward the boats from the station, and none among them envied their perilous journey across the lake tonight.

“Alexander’s sister,” said Lilian, referring to Alexander Yorke, a Slytherin in their year.

“ I heard Montague’s brother is a first year,” said Adrian. “And one of the Goyle boys, I think.”

“There’s also Eleanor Nott, Margaret Bulstrode, and Sybilla Avery,” said Ursula. “Madam Tripe mentioned them.”

There was also Beatrice Scamander, whom Ursula was quite excited to see be Sorted. Turning her eyes on the staff table, Ursula scanned the line of chairs, noting how many were empty. One was, of course, Hagrid’s, and another Professor McGonagall’s, but the third must belong to their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“That’s odd,” said Ursula, with a slight frown. She had heard from Tonks that Alastor Moody, who had been fired/retired a while previously, would be taking the position. “I thought —”

But she stopped as the doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall marched in, leading a line of first years who looked as if they had swum across the Black Lake instead of rode across in boats. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school — all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Ursula recognized as Hagrid’s moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.

“Why can’t someone just dry them off?” muttered Lilian under her breath.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard’s hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

_ A thousand years or more ago, _

_ When I was newly sewn, _

_ There lived four wizards of renown, _

_ Whose names are still well known: _

_ Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, _

_ Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, _

_ Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, _

_ Shrewd Slytherin, from fen. _

_ They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, _

_ They hatched a daring plan _

_ To educate young sorcerers _

_ Thus Hogwarts School began. _

_ Now each of these four founders _

_ Formed their own house, for each _

_ Did value different virtues _

_ In the ones they had to teach. _

_ By Gryffindor, the bravest were _

_ Prized far beyond the rest; _

_ For Ravenclaw, the cleverest _

_ Would always be the best; _

_ For Hufflepuff, hard workers were _

_ Most worthy of admission; _

_ And power-hungry Slytherin _

_ Loved those of great ambition. _

_ While still alive they did divide _

_ Their favorites from the throng, _

_ Yet how to pick the worthy ones _

_ When they were dead and gone? _

_ ‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way, _

_ He whipped me off his head. _

_ The founders put some brains in me _

_ So I could choose instead! _

_ Now slip me snug about your ears, _

_ I’ve never yet been wrong, _

_ I’ll have a look inside your mind _

_ And tell where you belong! _

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

“How long do you think the Sorting Hat takes to write each song, do you think?” mused Cassius, seeming completely unfazed by the Hat’s song. “All year? All summer?”

No one replied, but several of them laughed. Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

“When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool,” she told the first years. “When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. Ackerley, Stewart!”

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

“Avery, Sybilla!”

This time, the Hat called out “SLYTHERIN!” and Ursula and the rest of the table exploded with cheers. Terence Higgs dried Sybilla with a wave of his wand as she sat down at the end of the table. Across the hall, Fred and George hissed at Sybilla. The next first year, Malcolm Baddock, went to Slytherin as well, and so did Margaret Bulstrode a few minutes later.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L’s. Ursula allowed herself a small cheer a while later, when Beatrice was placed in Gryffindor.

And finally, with “Whitby, Kevin!” (“HUFFLEPUFF!”), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, smiling around the students with his arms opened wide.

“Oh, please don’t tell me he’s about to give a speech,” said Adrian.

“I have only two words to say to you,” he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. “ _ Tuck in _ .”

Cassius laughed and reached quickly for a plate of lamb chops. The others reached just as eagerly for different dishes, choosing what they liked best from the magnificent feast around them. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

“So!” said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.”

“I find myself much more agreeable to speeches after I’ve had food,” muttered Cassius in Ursula’s ear. She giggled and swatted him.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirtyseven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.”

The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. He continued, “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.”

The sixth years were only half listening, until his next announcement.

“It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“ _ What _ ?” said Adrian loudly. Ursula didn’t have quite as vocal of a reaction, but she was just as shocked. There was no reason to cancel Quidditch, even for the tournament.

Professor Dumbledore went on, “This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —”

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers’ table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Vanessa gasped.

“That’s Alastor Moody,” whispered Ursula. In that moment, she had no idea why Tonks talked of him with such reverence.

The lightning had thrown Moody’s face into sharp relief. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. His mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. But it was his eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of Moody’s head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

Alastor Moody reached Professor Dumbledore, and they spoke briefly, before he sat down in the empty seat on Professor Dumbledore’s right-hand side. Moody shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. “Professor Moody.”

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody’s bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

Professor Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Ursula saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“As I was saying,” he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, “we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody’s arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Professor Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” he said, “though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

“Er — but maybe this is not the time… no…” said Professor Dumbledore, “where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.”

“No way,” said Lilian, who was staring open-mouthed at Professor Dumbledore. Ursula knocked her shoulder affectionately.

“You can see why we didn’t tell you, huh Lils?” she said.

“The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.”

A few students whispered anxiously about the death toll, but their anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Gemma darkly.

“The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

“I’m going to enter,” said Cassius, his chest puffed out excitedly.

“Me too,” said Adrian.

They were not the only people who seemed to be visualizing themselves as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, people either gazed raptly at Professor Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Professor Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

“Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,” he said, “the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age — that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This” — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — “is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.” His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred’s and George’s mutinous faces. “I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.”

“Damn,” said Adrian, slumping a little.

“The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

“I’ll be of age by the time the champions are picked,” said Cassius. “I’m definitely entering.”

“Well right now,” said Ursula, “you can help me make sure none of the first years get lost. The new Slytherin prefects are Catherine Shaw and Arthur Burke — point all of the first years towards them.”

Once the Great Hall was empty, and all of the first years had found their way towards the new prefects, Ursula and Cassius followed the rest of the Slytherins down the long, winding stairs to the dungeons. Ursula went to bed feeling oddly glad that she wasn’t old enough to enter. The tournament excited her, but not as much as it frightened her, and she was more than happy to leave the glory to someone else.

~~~

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, which was Friday, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as the sixth years went up for breakfast. After they had eaten, they remained seated at the Slytherin table, waiting for Professor Snape to bring them their schedules. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual this year, for Professor Snape needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary OWL grades to continue with their chosen NEWTs.

Gemma went first, and was immediately cleared for Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, History of Magic, Herbology, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Alchemy. She shot off at once to first period History of Magic, and told Ursula she’d save her a seat.

Adrian went next, and he took a little longer to sort out. Professor Snape compared his application to his OWL results with a dry expression.

“I see you managed an ‘Outstanding’ in my class, Pucey,” he said. “You wish to drop…?”

“Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Charms, and Herbology,” said Adrian. “Oh, and Divination, but I —”

“I can see you failed the OWL,” said Professor Snape. He tapped a blank schedule with the tip of his wand and handed it to Adrian.

“Sweet, a free period,” he said, leaving to wait by the entrance to the Great Hall in case the others were free as well.

“Muggle Studies, Fenharrow?” said Professor Snape, looking at Lilian. “Perhaps you wish to aim for something a little more… useful.”

“I think it’s brilliant,” said Lilian fiercely. She snatched her schedule and went off to join Adrian.

Ursula went next, and after a moment’s pause in which Professor Snape peered down at her OWL results, he tapped her schedule and gave it to her.

“Good luck!” called Cassius, as Ursula headed out of the Great Hall towards History of Magic.

The biggest difference between OWL and NEWT classes, other than the difficulty and workload, was that all four Houses had every class together. This worked especially well in small classes, such as History of Magic, where there were only fourteen students. Ursula sat in the front row with Gemma on her right and a Ravenclaw named Rue Hayes on her left.

Professor Binns gave a short speech that he had likely given a hundred times before, then turned and promptly began to lecture. The only sounds beside his droning voice were the squeal of chalk on the chalkboard and the gentle scratch of quills on parchment. Unlike their previous five years of History of Magic, no one fell asleep and the whole class left having taken dutiful notes, with an essay due Tuesday.

Ursula and Gemma met the rest of their friends, save Vanessa, in the dungeons for Potions an hour later. A surprising seventeen total students had achieved ‘Outstanding’ OWL scores, which Ursula was sure exceeded Professor Snape’s expectations.

The seats were arranged in two semicircles, with the front row of desks having one less than the back row, and alternating so everyone could see the board. There was little chatter among the sixth years as they sat down, each to their own table. All talk died down when Professor Snape swept in.

“I must confess my surprise that so many of you managed to advance to NEWT level,” began Professor Snape, pacing to the front of the classroom. “Take this as your warning about the difficulty of this class. I do not accept late work and you will be graded as you would be on your Potions NEWT. If you cannot complete what I assign, you will no longer be a part of this class. Is this understood?”

They all nodded.

“Very well,” said Professor Snape. He waved his wand, and a complex list of instructions appeared on the board. “You will be making the Draught of Living Death. It is among the most powerful sleeping potions. Begin.”

They set to work at once, lighting fires under their cauldrons, cutting pods, and running back and forth from the supply cabinet as they worked, while Professor Snape swept around the room inspecting — and mostly criticizing — their work. By the end of class, only Blossom’s potion was the proper shade of pink. Professor Snape gave her a begrudging ten points to Hufflepuff, assigned them all an essay, and dismissed them just as the bell rang.

“How was Potions?” asked Vanessa, as everyone but Lilian headed up to Alchemy. Lilian had Muggle Studies that hour.

“Fine,” said Cassius, “but Snape’s going to be a nightmare. All he did was criticize us, even more than usual.”

“What do y’all think Alchemy is going to be like?” said Ursula.

“Fascinating and not too hard, I hope,” said Adrian.

They entered the fourth floor classroom, which was especially large and with a particularly high ceiling, unusual for a class this size. There were two seats at every table, with six seats neatly arranged into three rows. By the time the bell rang, all eighteen seats were filled. The sixth years buzzed with anticipation as their professor entered the class.

Their professor was a rather average-looking man with an average build, who Ursula guessed was about her uncle Lucius’s age. His robes were navy blue and the only truly distinctive thing about him was the way he beamed at them when he entered the classroom.

“Welcome, welcome!” he said. “I love meeting my new students. I am Tiberius Tilcott, your Alchemy professor. Before we begin, I’m going to take roll just to make sure that we are all present and accounted for.”

Professor Tilcott waved his wand, and a piece of parchment shot up from his messy desk and into his hand. He adjusted his glasses and read the first name on the list.

“Blossom Ash?”

Blossom squeaked a little, before she said, “Here.”

“Very nice to meet you, Ms. Ash,” said Professor Tilcott, smiling over the rim of his glasses at her. “Ursula Black?”

“Here,” said Ursula, raising her hand.

“A pleasure, Ms. Black,” said Professor Tilcott. He went down the line of names quickly, and when that was done, he tossed the parchment back onto his desk and began to pace as he talked excitedly.

“As you all know, Alchemy is only available at the NEWT level,” said Professor Tilcott. “This is because students must have obtained a certain level of magical knowledge before they can even begin to understand Alchemy. I know many of your other classes begin teaching wandless magic during sixth year, but in Alchemy, we will not be attempting anything wandless until the start of next year.”

He paused in his pacing, and in his speech, beaming, if possible, even wider when he saw how they grinned up at him.

“The coursework is designed to be challenging, and much of Alchemy lies in the theory, which means there will be perhaps more homework than you all expected. But,” he said with one raised eyebrow, anticipating their groans, “my job as your teacher is to make sure you  _ learn _ . So please, I encourage you to come see me if ever you are struggling, either with the material or your homework, and I will do everything I can to assist you. Does this sound like a fair deal?”

Murmurs of agreement went up about the room.

“Excellent,” said Professor Tilcott. He strode around behind his desk and pointed at the chalk, which rose up and began to write on the chalkboard as he spoke. “Then let’s get down to business. The ancient study of Alchemy focuses on the four basic elements of nature: fire, earth, air and water. The other main topic of study is the transmutation of substances. There are many branches of Alchemy that can be applied to your other subjects, such as…”

Professor Tilcott went on to write a list of everything they would be covering in the year, pausing occasionally for questions and to make sure they were following along. He rounded off the class by assigning two chapters of reading in their impossibly thick Alchemy textbook — he swore they would get through it by the end of the year, but they didn’t believe him — and ten inches on the basic elements of nature, to sum up what he had taught them in class.

Despite the already slightly panic-inducing amount of homework the sixth years had received, they left Alchemy in high spirits, and spent much of lunch discussing their excitement for the class.

“How was Muggle Studies?” asked Ursula, as Lilian arrived, slightly breathless, to lunch.

“Brilliant,” said Lilian, helping herself to a Cornish pasty. “Absolutely brilliant. I just love Professor Burbage. There are only nine of us — can you believe it?”

“To be honest…” said Cassius. “I didn’t think there would be so many.”

“You just don’t find Muggle Studies as fascinating as I do,” said Lilian, rolling her eyes. Cassius teasingly muttered ‘ _ Obviously _ ’ but declared he was glad she enjoyed the class. “Anyways, how’s Alchemy?”

“I think it’s going to be wonderful,” said Vanessa. “But I don’t know how I’m going to cope with all of this homework.”

They all looked at Gemma, who had already scheduled homework in her planner.

“It’s going to be hell,” she said grimly.

“Oh, it won’t be that bad,” said Adrian. “I can’t believe I’m the optimist here, but honestly. If we’ve managed this long, we’ll make it work. We always do.”

“Adrian’s right,” said Ursula. “A positive outlook will also make it easier.”

But positive outlook or not, Ursula, Lilian, Gemma, and Adrian left Ancient Runes just over an hour later with their largest amount of homework ever.

“We have a fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and readings in  _ these _ due Tuesday!” said Ursula, as she, Lilian, and Gemma joined Cassius and Vanessa outside of the Charms classroom. Adrian, who had dropped Charms, was done for the day. Ursula handed Cassius two heavy books, a copy of each of which Professor Babbling had given to her eighteen students.

“My sincerest condolences,” said Cassius. Just then, tiny Professor Flitwick opened the door and ushered them eagerly inside.

Very few students had dropped Charms, so the classroom was considerably more crowded and more noisy than ever before, since all four Houses were taught together. It was lucky the room was so large, and Ursula had a feeling that that was the reason why. They got their first taste of nonverbal spells during Charms as well, which left many of Ursula’s classmates purple-faced and straining as they attempted to conjure a spell without saying the incantation aloud.

Ursula was the first to manage it, after a good half dozen tries, followed shortly by Cedric, Rue, and Gemma, which earned them fifteen points each. The rest of their classmates had more difficulty, and by the time double Charms was over, only Cassius had managed to join the other four, and Professor Flitwick set them yet another essay.

“I’m already regretting taking so many classes,” said Ursula lightly, as she dumped her bag in her dorm before dinner. “I mean, look at my schedule. I have no free periods.”

“I did tell you you were mad,” said Cassius, leaning in her doorway. He caught her schedule as she brandished it at him. “Look, you have one free period here, see? And a double here.”

“Ah yes, how could I have missed them?” said Ursula sarcastically. “That’s when Arithmancy is. You know what I mean. How am I going to get all of this homework done?”

“You’ll find a way, like you always do,” said Cassius with a shrug. “The option still stands to drop classes, you know.”

“We’ll see, but I doubt it,” said Ursula. “Come on. It’s almost dinnertime.”

“Excellent,” said Cassius. “My favorite time of day.”

Ursula laughed and they headed up to the Great Hall together. When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, there was a great crowd of people queuing for dinner, and, to Ursula’s great annoyance, it seemed Draco had decided to pick a fight with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Particularly Ron, it seemed, due to the way the other two held him back.

“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

“Draco!” snapped Ursula.

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron…”

“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Draco. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry, “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

Draco’s pale face went slightly pink.

“Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.”

“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Ursula cursed, a filthy curse Madam Tripe would’ve slapped her for saying, as Draco shot a white-hot spell at Harry. It grazed the side of his face as several people screamed. But before Harry could retaliate or anyone else could step in, there was a second enormous BANG.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”

Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry — at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

“Did he get you?” Professor Moody growled.

“No,” said Harry, “missed.”

“LEAVE IT!” Professor Moody shouted, startling several onlookers.

“Leave — what?” Harry said.

“Not you — him!” Professor Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. Professor Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

Ursula knelt to trap Draco quickly, but before she could, Professor Moody roared, “I don’t think so!”

Professor Moody pointed his wand at Draco the ferret again — he flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Professor Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…”

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. Ursula shrieked, hands over her mouth. Cassius roared with laughter.

“Never — do — that — again —” said Professor Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again

“Professor Moody!” said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Professor Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

“What — what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.

“Teaching,” said Professor Moody.

“Teach — Moody,  _ is that a student _ ?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

“Yep,” said Professor Moody.

“No!” cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. Ursula hurried to his side. She might be annoyed with him, but he was still her cousin.

“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly. “Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”

“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” said Professor Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, “but I thought a good sharp shock —”

“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!”

“I’ll do that, then,” said Professor Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike.

Draco, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Professor Moody and muttered something in which the words “ _ my father _ ” were distinguishable.

“Oh yeah?” said Professor Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. “Well, I know your father of old, boy… You tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of House’ll be Snape, will it?”

“Yes,” said Draco resentfully.

“Another old friend,” growled Professor Moody. “I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Come on, you… Black, you’d better come too…”

Ursula jolted slightly with surprise when he said her name. Pressing a hand to her forehead in slight disbelief, she hurried back down towards the dungeons after Professor Moody, who had seized Draco’s upper arm and was marching him along.


	60. Mad-Eye Moody

After Professor Moody chewed out Draco in front of Professor Snape, earning Draco a week’s detention and thirty points from Slytherin, Ursula gave him another talking-to about why he had to stop making fun of other people’s families. All in all, they were rather late to dinner that night.

Ursula had a busy weekend, filled with a heavy amount of homework, but she made time for a bit of Quidditch on Sunday afternoon. Just because there was no tournament didn’t mean they couldn’t practice, so she, Adrian, and Cassius scrimmaged for an hour or two once their homework was finished.

On Monday morning, Ursula’s friends were quite pleased to start the day with a free period. Cassius and Adrian gloated incessantly about all of the free time they had that day, with the former only having three classes and the latter having two, none of which started until after lunch. Ursula said she’d see the girls in double Herbology, then hurried off to first period Care of Magical Creatures at eight o’clock.

As expected, hardly anyone had continued onto NEWT Care of Magical Creatures. Ursula was the first one to arrive, but soon she saw three figures picking their way down the muddy hill towards her.

One was Fred, the other George, both exchanging cheerful banter as they walked. They had ditched their cloaks and their ties were askew. In between them was Rue, who’s height difference meant the Weasley twins towered over her. She laughed at something Fred said and tucked a strand of hair, which was dyed a shocking blue, behind her ear. Her laughter died, however, as she and the Weasleys reached Ursula.

“Hey Black,” said Fred, waving as he and the others came to a stop. George grinned at her but Rue’s face went cold and she looked at her feet.

“Hello boys,” said Ursula. She nodded slightly to the shorter girl. “Hello Rumina.”

“Call me Rue,” said Rue stiffly.

They were saved from any more awkwardness by the arrival of Hagrid, who stepped out of his hut to greet them.

“Mornin! There yeh are!” he said, waving them closer. “Glad ter see yeh. I’ve go’ a real treat.” 

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

“Blast-Ended Skrewts!” said Hagrid happily, gesturing to the crates at his feet.

The Blast-Ended Skrewts looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches. Ursula thought they were marvelous.

“Since they’ve on’y jus’ hatched, I thought yer firs’ project would be ter raise ‘em!” continued Hagrid. “Today yeh’ll jus’ be feeding ‘em, ter figure out what they like. I’ve ne’er had ‘em before, yeh see, so why don’ yeh try eggs an’ frog livers an’ this bit o’ grass snake.”

Ursula picked up a bit of grass snake and, quite fearlessly, stuck her hand into one of the crates. The other three were a bit more hesitant and a bit more grossed out.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” murmured Rue to Ursula.

“I’m not the one you should be worried about,” shot back Ursula.

“Ew!” said Fred, dropping the bit of slimy frog liver he was holding and pulling his hand out of the crate.

“Er — what happens if you get stung?” said George, yelping as he snatched his hand away just in time.

“I’m no’ sure,” said Hagrid. “But it can’ be anything too bad, can it?”

The sixth years rather thought it could, but they didn’t contradict him and were just more careful of the stingers from then on.

“What exactly do they  _ do _ ?” said Rue, sounding slightly curious and slightly disgusted. “I mean, can they be used in potions or something?”

“I think their stinger migh’ have some kind o’ poison in ‘em,” admitted Hagrid. “An’ the females have suckers on their bellies.”

“Where did they come from?” said Fred.

“Aren’t they created by crossbreeding manticores and fire crabs?” said Ursula.

“Yeah, tha’s how,” said Hagrid.

“Isn’t it illegal, though?” said Rue.

“It is under the Ban on Experimental Breeding,” said Ursula, “unless it’s Ministry-sanctioned and approved. Is it, Hagrid?”

“Er, sort of,” said Hagrid, sounding slightly guilty. “Anyway, have yeh found anything they like yet?”

They all shook their heads no.

“ _ Ouch _ !” yelled George. “It exploded!”

On the side of his hand was an angry red burn.

“Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,” said Hagrid, nodding.

“Here,” said Rue. She tapped George’s hand and muttered, “ _ Episkey _ .”

“Thanks,” said George, rubbing the spot where the burn had been.

They spent the rest of the lesson trying out different foods to see what the skrewts liked, which proved to be rather difficult as the skrewts didn’t seem to have mouths. In the end, Hagrid told them their only homework was to brainstorm what the skrewts might like, and sent them off to their next class when a booming bell echoed across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson.

Fred and George bid Ursula and Rue a cheerful goodbye, as they hadn’t advanced to NEWT Herbology. Rather than walk together in frosty silence, however, Ursula sped up slightly, her long legs carrying her faster towards the greenhouses, and Rue slowed down.

Compared to the pressure to perform nonverbal spells in their other classes, it was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least they were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized them unexpectedly from behind.

As it turned out, not only did Ursula and Rue have Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology together, they also shared  _ every single other class _ .

They were the only two students in their year taking ten NEWT subjects, which just so happened to be the same ten subjects. The two girls regarded each other with cold indifference for the time being, but Ursula supposed that one of them would have to crack over the next two years, if they went on like this.

After lunch, Ursula had a free period while Gemma and Vanessa went to Arithmancy, and then they all had Transfiguration. Like Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall also instructed them on nonverbal spells, which were now the expectation in her class. Ursula earned twenty points when she turned her hedgehog into a pincushion without saying a word.

Despite the much larger — and therefore far more chaotic — class, Ursula and Cedric still sat together in the front row and worked as partners, just as they had done for the past five years. They were typically the subjects of much praise from Professor McGonagall, a standard which showed no sign of changing at NEWT level.

Once Transfiguration was over, their last class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, wherein they would finally meet Professor Moody properly, and see how he taught a class.

The classroom was packed when they arrived. Only eight students in their year had dropped Defense Against the Dark Arts, with fewer still of them with failing grades thanks to Professor Lupin’s excellent teaching. The class buzzed loudly with anticipation, but fell silent when they heard Professor Moody’s distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor. He entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

“Don’t even bother getting your books out,” he grunted, clunking his way over to his desk and grabbing a sheet of parchment from it. “You won’t need them.”

This, if anything, only made the class more excited, particularly as they remembered Professor Lupin’s excellent practical lessons. Professor Moody shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered. He stumped up and down the line of desks, stopping occasionally to eye a student more closely.

“Miss Black,” said Professor Moody, stopping in front of Ursula’s desk, his magical and normal eye swiveling to face her.

“Yes, sir?” said Ursula, under the distinct impression that she was being judged.

“I used to work with your cousin, you know,” said Professor Moody.

Keeping in mind the number of people in the room who knew about her relationship with Tonks, Ursula replied, “I’m afraid I do not know who you are referring to.”

Professor Moody grunted. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Nearby, several Slytherins were also looking at her critically, and Fred and George looked confused.

“We never did catch Sirius Black,” said Professor Moody.

“No sir,” said Ursula. “So I suppose searching my house proved to be a dead end? You remember, surely. Augusts before last?”

“Of course,” said Professor Moody. His electric blue eye seemed to bore into her. “There’s many secrets at Corvus Manor.”

Ursula did not reply. She felt strangely as though she had passed some sort of test, though she had no idea what for, as Professor Moody’s eye swiveled away from her — though the eyes of many of her classmates did not — and he continued down the row of students.

“Now that the boring part is out of the way,” said Professor Moody, stumping back to the front of the room, “let’s get down to it. I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about everything he taught you for your OWLs. But you, like several other years, are way behind in one area.”

Professor Moody sat back behind his desk.

“Curses,” he said. “Dark curses. Evil, some may say. Curses that can inflict brutal pain and deadly consequences on their victims.”

He paused slightly, and Ursula had a feeling his magical eye scanned over all of the Slytherins with relations to Death Eaters.

“Curses some of you may be more familiar with than others,” finished Professor Moody. “So, while I am your teacher —”

“You’re not staying?” blurted Lee. Professor Moody laughed harshly. The effect made his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile.

“No, Jordan,” he said. “I’m here as a special favor to Dumbledore, and then it’s back to my quiet retirement. So,” he clapped his gnarled hands together, “curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. Sixth year is the year I show you what illegal curses look like, because you’re supposed to be old enough to handle it by now. Are you?”

Many students nodded eagerly, voicing their agreement. Others looked more hesitant.

“You’ll have to be,” said Professor Moody. “The sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s about to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. The key is  _ constant vigilance _ .”

Professor Moody paused again to survey them all.

“So,” he said. “Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

A number of hands went up, including Ursula’s, the Weasley twins, and pretty much anyone with a parent who worked at the Ministry. Professor Moody pointed at Lewis Carter.

“There’s the Imperius Curse,” said Lewis.

“Yes, and a tricky curse it is,” said Professor Moody. “It gave the Ministry quite a bit of trouble. Any guesses why?”

“People would claim they had been Imperiused when they fought for You-Know-Who,” piped up Patricia Stimpson.

“Exactly,” said Professor Moody. He got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Professor Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, “ _ Imperio _ !”

The spider leapt from Professor Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Professor Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Many of her classmates laughed. It made Ursula slightly sick to her stomach. She noticed several others — namely Cassius and Vanessa — who stared at the spider with a look of revulsion on their faces.

“Think it’s funny?” growled Professor Moody. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?”

The laughter died away almost instantly.

“Warrington!” said Professor Moody.

Cassius jumped with surprise.

“Yes, professor?” he said quickly.

“You didn’t laugh,” said Professor Moody. “Why? Are you more familiar with this curse than some of your classmates?”

“I don’t like the idea of total control,” said Cassius carefully, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Total control,” echoed Professor Moody. “That’s what Warrington is afraid of. That’s what you all should be afraid of. I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…”

Several students shuddered.

“The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he barked, and everyone jumped.

Professor Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

“Anyone else?” he said. “Another illegal curse?”

Fewer students raised their hands this time. Ursula, slightly reluctantly, raised hers and Professor Moody, unsurprisingly, called on her.

“Miss Black,” he said. “Give us a curse.”

“There’s the… the Cruciatus Curse,” said Ursula, regretting raising her hand.

“I would expect you to be familiar with that one,” said Professor Moody. Something in his tone softened. “I pity your mother.”

Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

“The Cruciatus Curse,” said Professor Moody. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” he said, pointing his wand at the spider. “ _ Engorgio _ !”

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Ursula felt her heart begin to pound in her ears.

Professor Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, “ _ Crucio _ !”

At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from the spider, but somewhere inside Ursula’s head, a terrible screaming echoed. Ursula started to feel lightheaded, but Professor Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently —

And then Ursula was staring at the ceiling.

Professor Moody was standing over her, as were several of her friends, and everyone was staring at her. Cassius helped her into a sitting position. It was clear she had fainted while Professor Moody was performing the curse, and had evidently slid from her chair.

“Are you alright?” said Professor Moody quietly, in his gruff voice.

“I’m fine,” said Ursula, swallowing. She looked at the floor. “I’m fine.”

Cassius and Adrian helped her to her feet. Professor Moody still stared at her intently with both eyes.

“Go to Madam Pomfrey,” he said. “You… you don’t need to see the last curse.”

“Really, I’m fine —”

“Go,” insisted Professor Moody. “I’m telling you to go.”

“Er, Professor, maybe someone should go with her,” said Cedric anxiously.

“No,” said Ursula, shaking her head even though it made her head spin, before Professor Moody could speak. “I’ll go on my own.”

“Go on,” said Professor Moody. “Come to my office after class.”

Ursula nodded, picked up her bag, and headed out of the room. When the door shut behind her, she stopped and sat down for a moment, drawing her knees to her chest and leaning her head against the wall. Dimly, she could hear Professor Moody continuing the lesson.

“ _ Avada Kedavra _ !” Professor Moody roared. Ursula imagined a third spider dying on his desk.

When she no longer felt dizzy, Ursula stood up and headed to the Hospital Wing. She wondered why Professor Moody wanted to talk to her. And she felt it was time she read from a different section of the library at Corvus Manor.

Professor Moody was right. These curses were dangerous, but they needed to know about them. Professor Moody had only picked the worst of their kind, but there were more, many more.

And Ursula was far too familiar with them for her own liking.


	61. Beauxbatons & Durmstrang

After her visit to Madam Pomfrey, Ursula returned to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She accepted his offer of tea, and they talked about her mother. Professor Moody sounded as if he had known her, or at least known of her, which surprised Ursula.

Their conversation, plus the day’s lessons, inspired Ursula to make a trip to the Owlery after dinner. She wrote a letter to Dimsey and Helgie, including a list of books she requested they send her, then sent Agatha off into the night.

Ursula had wanted so many books from the library at Corvus Manor that it took Agatha two trips to carry them all, but once Ursula had them, she immersed herself wholeheartedly in reading them. She could recall her grandfather talking about the spells contained in their pages, telling her to learn to recognize them so she could avoid them if she ever needed to. There were worse spells in worse books, Ursula knew, but she wouldn’t dare bring them into Hogwarts. Even what she had now was risky, and she doubted even the Restricted Section covered what could be found in Corvus Manor.

Aside from her added topic of study, Ursula had enough on her plate as is. She was kept busy with long hours of complicated homework, followed by prefect patrol once a week. She was keeping up well with her homework so far, but it was hard to drag herself up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower on Thursday nights.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

“It’s illegal,” muttered Cassius under his breath. No one dared protest louder than that.

“Warrington,” barked Professor Moody. “Why don’t you go first?”

Cassius shook his head, face pale, but Professor Moody beckoned him forward to the front of the room. He flinched when Professor Moody raised his wand.

“ _Imperio_ ,” said Professor Moody.

Cassius stood there, just as tense, for several long seconds. He shook his head, like he was trying to expel Professor Moody’s curse. But after a moment, he visibly relaxed. Professor Moody got him to do one cartwheel, then another — which was especially surprising, because Cassius didn’t know how to do a cartwheel — but in the middle of the third cartwheel something in Cassius changed, and he landed with a thud, sprawling on his back.

“There you go!” said Professor Moody, as Cassius sat up. “It took a while, but Warrington got there eventually! Let’s try this again…”

It took Cassius three more tries to throw off the curse completely, and he looked sore and unhappy when he finally returned to his seat. His success made others eager to try, but it soon became clear that he was an outlier.

Not one out of the next dozen people who went managed to throw off the Imperius Curse, and Professor Moody had them doing the oddest things. Jacob Selwyn did a handstand while reciting the monarchs of England. Rose Marwick played neverending hopscotch, and Elizabeth Barrett declared herself the queen, using a textbook as her crown. Kenneth Towler jumped from desk to desk, imitating a squirrel.

There were only a handful of people who managed to throw off the curse, and it took all of them more tries than it had taken Cassius. Cedric, then Rue, and eventually Fred and George. Then there was Angelina Johnson, and then Dennis Moon, who only admitted _after_ singing the national anthem that he hadn’t really been told to.

“Miss Black, you next,” grunted Professor Moody.

Ursula walked with trepidation to the front of the room. When Professor Moody put the curse on her, she felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in her head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness.

_Sing_ , commanded Professor Moody’s voice, echoing from some distant chamber in her brain.

_I’d rather not_ . The reply was immediate and almost unconscious. Ursula wasn’t _resisting_ the curse, exactly, but it rather felt like she was ignoring it.

Her mind drifted back to a conversation she had had with Narcissa, the only time they had come close to discussing what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup. Lucius was in the drawing room with a few of his friends; their loud voices echoed to where Narcissa and Ursula were sitting in the parlor.

“ _Think of pretty things_ ,” said Narcissa. “ _Think pretty thoughts, and only let those thoughts be seen_.”

So, while Professor Moody’s voice insisted that she sing, Ursula imagined herself strolling down the path to her garden, picturing every flower, every blade of grass.

_SING_ , thundered Professor Moody’s voice.

_Sing what_? challenged her own voice.

_Opera_ , decided Professor Moody. _In Italian_.

_I don’t speak Italian_.

The voice became only more insistent and angry as she hummed and sat in her little garden. It was like when it rained at Corvus Manor, and the raindrops rolled off the flower petals while thunder crackled overhead…

_Sing_ ! _Now_!

So Ursula sang. She sang a soft lullaby in French, and when she was finished, she felt the Imperius Curse, rather like a weight on her shoulders now, lift.

“Interesting,” said Professor Moody, his gravelly voice soft. As far as any of Ursula’s classmates could tell, she hadn’t managed to resist the curse, and that was all. “Very interesting. The rest of you, Miss Black disobeyed my instructions, but did not manage to throw off the curse in its entirety.”

“I sang,” said Ursula. “In a foreign language.”

“Yes,” conceded Professor Moody. His magical eye narrowed. “But not the one I asked you to.”

“It felt more like a recommendation, sir,” said Ursula.

“Did it?” said Professor Moody, more to himself than anyone else. “Did it indeed.”

“Should I go again?”

“No, Miss Black, I don’t think so. Pucey, you’re next,” said Professor Moody.

Ursula returned to her seat as Adrian began to yodel. They left class an hour later, and she and the other girls split off to head to Herbology. Ursula managed to finish the majority of her homework between Herbology and dinner, so she had a spare few hours to read before Astronomy that night.

“Anything interesting?” remarked Gemma from her desk.

“Sort of,” replied Ursula, turning a page, wary of the crinkly material.

“You’ve been very absorbed in those books lately,” continued Gemma, bent over her essay.

“Yes, well, I thought it was time I explored my library a little more.”

Gemma nodded, as if this was very sensible.

“There’s a League of Laurels meeting tomorrow, correct?” she said.

“Yes,” said Ursula. “I have a new idea, based on what Professor Moody’s been teaching us. I think we should learn more defensive spells.”

“Whatever you say,” said Gemma, and the scratch of her quill faded in.

As promised, there was a League of Laurels meeting on Friday night. The other Slytherins were more than happy to learn defensive spells, particularly the older ones who could do more complex magic.

“They’re nice to know,” said Peregrine Derrick cheerfully. “Besides, it’s not like we’ll ever need them.”

That became the new mission of the League of Laurels: to learn, and practice, all sorts of defensive spells. Ursula said she’d draw up a list but that anyone was free to practice what they liked. There were a few new members this year, all of whom signed the contract, all of which resided in a book hidden in her dorm.

Meanwhile, there was no shortage of other work to keep Ursula and the other sixth years busy. They were swamped every evening with essays and translations and research all due too soon. Even Care of Magical Creatures added to Ursula’s workload.

The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. There were fewer in number now, as they seemed to be fighting and devouring one another with some frequency. Hagrid was delighted — with their growth spurt, that is — and as part of their “project,” suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior. Ursula managed it even in her busy schedule, and turned her notes in for extra credit.

When Ursula and the others came up for dinner on Friday night, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregating in the Entrance Hall, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Cassius, the tallest of them all, looked easily over the heads of the other students and offered to read the sign aloud.

**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT**

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Sunday the 30th of

October. Students will assemble with their Houses

in front of the castle to greet our guests before the

Welcoming Feast.

“That’s next week!” said Lilian excitedly, as they pushed their way through the crowd towards the Great Hall for dinner. “What will the other students be like, do you think?”

“Ask Ursula, she’s engaged to one of them,” said Cassius teasingly, nudging Ursula’s shoulder.

“I am not,” she said. “And I don’t know if Hadrian is the best reflection of _all_ international students. He is British, after all.”

“It’ll be exciting, that’s for sure,” said Adrian.

Adrian was right. The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

The castle itself was to undergo an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics. Ursula and the other prefects oversaw several of the cleanings, and planned decorations for the Great Hall.

Fred and George were determined to find out how the champions were chosen by any means necessary, which included pestering anyone who might know. They were determined to enter.

“For the last time, I don’t know,” hissed Ursula to Fred in double Transfiguration Thursday morning. “And if I did, I’m not going to tell you.”

“Fine, fine, keep your secrets,” said Fred.

“Professor!” called out George. “How will the champions be chosen?”

“I’ve already said I will not tell you, Mr. Weasley,” snapped Professor McGonagall. “Now, get on with transfiguring that raccoon.”

George scowled and nearly prodded his raccoon in the eye. Ursula turned back to her own raccoon.

“You’re going to enter, then?” she said to Cedric, as, with a squeak, her raccoon transformed into a black tennis racket with grey strings. She murmured the reverse incantation, and the raccoon was back.

“Ten points to Slytherin,” said Professor McGonagall approvingly.

“I am,” said Cedric, petting his raccoon’s head. “I think the whole tournament is very exciting, and the prize sounds too good to pass up. Would you enter? If you were old enough?”

“Perhaps,” said Ursula. “My aunt and uncle would consider it terribly unladylike, but I might. I’m not about to try to trick the impartial judge, however, whoever they may be.”

“You don’t have to do everything according to their wishes, you know,” said Cedric. “I mean, you are allowed some freedom. So, would you enter if you could?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “Yes, I suppose I would.”

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Ursula had only just walked in, when she saw Fred and George rather urgently waving her over to the Gryffindor table, which was highly unusual, where they sat with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ursula told her friends that she would be with them in a moment, then headed, slightly bemused, over to the Weasleys.

“Yes?” she said.

“Hermione here,” said Fred, “has begun a crusade to demand equal rights for house elves, namely the ones down in the kitchen. It’s called SPEW —”

“The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare,” interjected Hermione hotly.

“Ah. I see,” said Ursula, her voice mild.

“And we’re trying to convince her that house elves like what they do,” finished George. “We thought maybe you could help. Don’t you own a house elf?”

“Two, actually,” said Ursula. Hermione looked flabbergasted. “Dimsey and Helgie. And I have guardianship over my Great Aunt Cassiopeia’s former house elf, although we set her free when Cassiopeia died, because she lives at my aunt’s old house.”

“You have two house elves working for you?” exclaimed Hermione. “Do you pay them? Do they get days off? Or do you just keep them as slaves?”

“I hardly think that’s fair,” said Ursula. “While I do agree that many house elves are not treated with the kindness and respect they deserve —”

“Ha!” said Hermione.

“— you will find, Ms. Granger, that I am among the minority,” continued Ursula. “I treat my house elves as friends, because that is what they are to me, but there are not many households that do. As for pay and days off, I always allow the latter, and as I am away for most of the year they are free to do as they please. In terms of pay, I pay Dimsey in books. I think he would keel over at the notion of anything else.”

“And your other house elf?” said Hermione.

“I pay Helgie a small monthly sum, the most she will accept,” said Ursula. “Most house elves are unpaid, but as my Great Aunt Cassiopeia paid hers, I pay mine. Once again, I am in the minority here. House elves are unpaid because they truly like what they do, so if you wish to pursue this cause further, I suggest you focus more on the fair treatment of house elves, and less on mislead accusations.”

There was a sudden whooshing noise overhead, signalling the arrival of the post owls.

“Good day,” said Ursula, her voice as calm and as mild as ever. She returned to the Slytherin table in time for the return of Agatha, bearing a letter from her aunt and uncle, and the arrival of the Daily Prophet.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. It was very difficult for anyone to get any work done, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. At a quarter to six, the Slytherins pulled on their cloaks and hurried up to the Entrance Hall, where the Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines based on grade level.

When Professor Snape deemed them acceptable examples of Hogwarts students — his words, not theirs — he led them outside. They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

“They should be here any minute,” said Cassius, checking his watch. “Hadrian didn’t tell you how they were arriving?”

Ursula shook her head.

“I have only the vaguest of ideas,” she said. “But they can’t Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, and they’re too far away to use broomsticks.”

“How would we visit another school?” said Adrian. “Perhaps that’ll give us a clue as to how they’ll be arriving.”

“I imagine we’d take the train,” said Lilian.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Ursula shivered slightly in the evening air. There was no doubt the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were preparing to make a dramatic entrance.

And then Professor Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —

“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

“Where?” said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

“There!” yelled Cassius, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

“It’s a dragon!” shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

“Don’t be stupid… it’s a flying house!” said one of the Gryffindor first years.

As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed — then, with an almighty crash that made Vanessa yelped, the horses’ hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

“Wow,” said Ursula, admiring the horses.

They just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerged from the inside of the carriage — a shoe the size of a child’s sled — followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman any of them had ever seen. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Ursula doubted there was an inch difference between Hagrid’s height and the height of this woman, who was now standing at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Professor Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Professor Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Professor Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” he said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Dumbly-dorr,” said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. “I ’ope I find you well?”

“In excellent form, I thank you,” said Professor Dumbledore.

“My pupils,” said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Out of the carriage stepped nearly two dozen boys and girls, all in their late teens, who stood together behind Madam Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads, and they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

“’As Karkaroff arrived yet?” Madame Maxime asked.

“He should be here any moment,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”

“Warm up, I think,” said Madame Maxime. “But ze ’orses —”

“Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,” said Professor Dumbledore, “the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges.”

Ursula smiled ruefully at the thought of the skrewts.

“My steeds require — er — forceful ’andling,” said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. “Zey are very strong…”

“I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,” said Professor Dumbledore, smiling.

“Very well,” said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. “Will you please inform zis ’Agrid zat ze ’orses drink only single-malt whiskey?”

“It will be attended to,” said Professor Dumbledore, also bowing.

“Come,” said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps. Ursula and the other Slytherins smiled at them as they passed.

“Well that was exciting,” remarked Adrian, as they turned around the wait for the Durmstrang students to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime’s huge horses snorting and stamping. But then —

“What’s that sound?” said Lilian.

A loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound…

“The lake!” yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. “Look at the lake!”

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s floor…

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool… and then Ursula saw the rigging…

“It’s the mast of a ship!” said Ursula to the others.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship’s portholes. They all looked bulky, from far away, due to their thick coats, which were made of shaggy, matted fur. The man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

“Dumbledore!” he called heartily as he walked up the slope. “How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”

“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Professor Dumbledore replied.

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Professor Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

“Dear old Hogwarts,” he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Ursula noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. “How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don’t mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…”

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. By the light of the castle’s open doors, they saw a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows.

“It’s Viktor Krum!” hissed Cassius.

Indeed it was. The Hogwarts students closed in behind the Durmstrang ones, and while Cassius still raved about how he couldn’t believe it was Krum, the others were pestering Ursula to find Hadrian.

“Which one is he?” said Lilian, craning her neck.

“The handsome one,” said Cassius.

“That’s not very helpful, is it,” said Lilian exasperatedly.

“There!” said Ursula. She was thankful Hadrian was so tall, because it made him far easier to spot in a crowd.

Hadrian saw her as she neared, and flung out an arm to stop his friends — and, indeed, most of the crowd, which probably wasn’t the best idea — from moving into the Great Hall.

“My dear Ursula Black,” he said, striding towards her. The crowd of Hogwarts students parted easily, utterly fascinated. To Ursula’s slight surprise, he bowed when he was in front of her, and then took her hand and kissed it. “I am so very pleased to see you again. And in such a fine castle, too.”

“I must confess, the pleasure of your visit is mine,” said Ursula. “Shall I show you into the Great Hall?”

“If I may have your arm,” countered Hadrian. Ursula accepted, and the flow of students into the Great Hall resumed. Ursula threw a wink over her shoulder at her friends, particularly Lilian, who gaped at her and Hadrian, and beckoned for them to follow.

Ursula led Hadrian over to the Slytherin table and the other Durmstrang students, who had been looking unsure where to go, followed. She and Hadrian sat down on one side of the table, with one of his friends next to him and Krum plus two more across from them.

“Ursula, this is Viktor, Emil, Vincent, and Ingrid,” said Hadrian, pointing first to Krum, then the tall, blonde boy on Hadrian’s right, and then the other two sitting next to Krum, a shorter, dark haired boy and a girl with blonde braids. “Everyone, this is Ursula Black.”

“Hadrian has told us very much about you,” said Viktor, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

“It’s a pleasure,” added Vincent.

“These are Ursula’s friends,” said Hadrian. “Cassius, Vanessa, Adrian, and, er…”

“Lilian,” said Ursula.

Her friends leaned forward eagerly and began to make small talk. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore’s left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests,” said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

“The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Ursula had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

“What’s this?” asked Lilian, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

“Bouillabaisse,” said Cassius, reaching past her to scoop some onto his plate. “It’s French. I have some whenever we visit. It’s lovely.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Lilian, ladling some onto her own plate. “So, what’s Durmstrang like?”

“Well, our castle is only four floors,” said Ingrid. She had a thick accent, something like Norwegian or Swedish. “And we only light the fires for magical purposes, which makes it very chilly, especially in winter. But the grounds of Durmstrang are huge, so in the summer we fly every day, over the lakes and the mountains…”

“We need to talk,” muttered Ursula in Hadrian’s ear.

“When?” he whispered back.

“I have a free period tomorrow after lunch,” said Ursula. “Could you meet me in the library?”

“I’ll do my best,” promised Hadrian.

“How were you all chosen to come here?” said Adrian. “Was it random?”

“We had our own duelling tournament of sorts,” spoke up Emil. “Only students who were seventeen or older could enter, and the top twenty or so got to come.”

The Great Hall felt more crowded than usual, which was to be expected with the extra students, but there weren’t enough of them to justify the difference. perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts’ robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood-red.

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Lilian tried a pale blancmange while Ursula and Hadrian shared an almond-flavored dessert that was stacked with rings of decreasing sizes to form a tower. Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Professor Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now.

“The moment has come,” said Professor Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —”

Adrian made a face.

“The what?” he said.

“— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation” — there was a smattering of polite applause — “and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

“Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.”

At the mention of the word “champions,” the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, “The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.”

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,” said Professor Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, “and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Professor Dumbledore went on calmly, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”

Professor Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Professor Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Professor Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.”

“So _that’s_ how we enter,” said Cassius.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” said Professor Dumbledore, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

Over at the Gryffindor table, Ursula could see Fred and George already scheming as to how they would get around the Age Line. She rather wished they wouldn’t, for she doubted they would succeed.

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”

At once there was a great scraping as the students pushed back their seats.

“Are you going back to the ship?” said Ursula, as Hadrian pulled his heavy fur coat back on.

“Yes,” he said. “Look, here comes Karkaroff. None of us really like him.”

Indeed, Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

“Back to the ship, then,” he was saying. “Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?”

Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs back on.

“Viktor hates when Karkaroff does that,” continued Hadrian in an undertone.

“Professor, _I_ vood like some vine,” said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

“I wasn’t offering it to you, Poliakoff,” snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. “I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy —”

As Karkaroff stopped at the doors to the Great Hall to stare silently at Harry, Hadrian orchestrated a follow up scene to what he had done before dinner. He kissed Ursula gently on the cheek this time, and then inclined his head to her before following his friends back to the ship, as Professor Moody had cleared the way.

Ursula found herself being stared at by not just her friends, but a number of other students as well.

“Come along then,” she said briskly, leading the way back down to the Slytherin dungeons.

“What was that?” asked Lilian.

“That was Ursula being courted,” said Vanessa. She looked thrilled. “You and Hadrian make a fine couple, I must say.”

“He’s quite handsome,” said Cassius. They all looked at him. “What? I’m just saying. Everyone was staring at the two of you.”

“Yes, well…” said Ursula. “We aren’t about to rush into anything.”

“Using _we_ , are we?” teased Gemma. Ursula rolled her eyes.

Hadrian had done exactly what she should’ve expected. He’d made a formal gesture to start their courtship, and had let everyone know his intentions. And Ursula could see why so many of the other students were fascinated. Few of them knew any of the Durmstrang or Beauxbatons students, and there she was with one on her arm.

To add to that, Hadrian was undeniably attractive. He was tall and tan and blond, with a brilliant white smile, and he was very muscular. To add to that, he had an elegant air about him, a sort of casual grace, that added to his allure. He reminded Ursula of a statue she’d once seen of the Greek god Apollo. The similarities didn’t end there. Like Apollo, Hadrian was also interested in men.

“It wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him, would it?” said Lilian, when she and Ursula were alone in the common room.

“No,” said Ursula, “it wouldn’t.”

“I mean, he’s handsome and smart and he likes you a lot,” said Lilian. “If he weren’t gay he’d be perfect.”

Ursula laughed tiredly.

“I won’t even ask how you found out,” she said. “Just that you please don’t tell anyone else. I don’t think Vanessa and Gemma know, and I haven’t told Cassius or Adrian.”

“I won’t, I promise,” said Lilian. “But you had to have noticed how he kept staring at Cassius throughout dinner.”

“I did,” admitted Ursula.

“So… what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to Hadrian,” said Ursula. “And we’re going to make a plan.”


	62. The Arrangement

The next morning, it seemed as if everyone had gotten up early to watch their classmates put their names into the Goblet of Fire. There were about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction. Cassius had put his name in just before dawn, and Ursula was there to watch as Hadrian stepped through the Age Line and submitted his name, along with the rest of the Durmstrang students.

Someone laughed behind Ursula. Turning, she saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

“Don’t tell me you’ve cooked up something to enter?” said Ursula, striding over to them. “An Aging Potion, perhaps?”

“Jealous, Black?” said Fred.

“One drop each,” said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. “We only need to be a few months older.”

“We’re going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins,” said Lee, grinning broadly.

Ursula rolled her eyes.

“It’ll never work,” she said.

“Just you wait,” said George.

“Ready?” Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. “C’mon, then — I’ll go first —”

Ursula walked back to Hadrian as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley — Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a moment, it might have worked, — George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred — but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other’s beards.

“I did warn you,” said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.”

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Ursula and the others went into breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner.

“Who else do we know who’s entering?” said Adrian, grabbing a few slices of toast.

“Cedric, of course,” said Ursula.

“Looks like Angelina just did,” said Lilian, pointing to the entryway.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way.

“I heard a rumor that Elizabeth Barrett put her name in last night,” said Gemma.

“And Luca Bailey and Jack Foxx,” added Cassius. “I think that’s it for our year, but I bet nearly every seventh year is going to enter if they haven’t already.”

“Here comes the Beauxbatons lot,” said Adrian.

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks. When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

“Well, I’d better get to Care of Magical Creatures,” said Ursula. “Hagrid needs all the help he can get with the skrewts.”

“I’ll walk you,” said Hadrian, jumping up at once. “I’m supposed to meet the others in ten minutes to go for a run anyway.”

As they headed down towards Hagrid’s cabin, they saw the gigantic powder-blue carriage in which the Beauxbatons students had arrived parked two hundred yards from Hagrid’s front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

“I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?” said Hadrian, halting a short ways away from the Weasley twins and Rue. Ursula nodded.

“Don’t forget to meet me in the library after,” she said. Hadrian nodded, smiled, and left.

“Seems as if you’ve got a handsome prince on your tail,” said George, walking over to her.

“The two of you make quite a couple,” added Fred. If Ursula didn’t know better, she would’ve thought there was a hint of jealousy in his office, but that simply couldn’t be.

“It certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?” she said.

“That’s an odd thing to say,” said Rue, whose scowl had only deepened since Hadrian’s departure.

“Is it?” said Ursula. “I don’t think so.”

Rue’s reply was cut off by Hagrid’s arrival. He explained that since the skrewts had started killing each other, he was keeping them in crates out by the pumpkin patch. They were about a meter in length by now, and he only had about twenty left.

“We’re gonna try an’ clean ‘em today,” said Hagrid. “Just spray ‘em with water. There’s no need ter get too close.”

“This is as close as I want to get,” muttered Fred. George nodded in agreement.

The skrewts were highly erratic, like they were in all things, on whether or not they liked being sprayed with water, so much so that there was absolutely no rhyme or reason to which of them liked it and which of them didn’t.

After Care of Magical Creatures, Ursula had double Herbology and then lunch. She picked at her plate, not very hungry, and then headed to the library during her free period. She found a desk at the very back, near the restricted section, where they were least likely to be disturbed, and waited. Soon enough, Hadrian showed up, and he sat across from her with an air of knowing anxiety, made clear by the frown he pulled when Ursula set a piece of parchment on the table between them.

“Is it not dangerous to have this written down?” said Hadrian, his voice hushed just in case anyone walked by.

“It’s proof,” said Ursula. “As soon as we are done here, I will hide it well.”

“How shall we begin?” said Hadrian. “Among the things we must discuss, are the terms of our arrangement, including how we must act around others, our future and what we will do about it, and what happens if…  _ other _ … feelings become involved.”

“By which I presume you mean other people?” said Ursula. Hadrian nodded. “In a similar vein, I believe we need to discuss who all knows about our arrangement.”

“I haven’t… told anyone,” said Hadrian slowly. “But I daresay Emil will, at least, start to grow suspicious if I do not explain.”

“Lilian knows,” said Ursula. “I haven’t told the others, but I will likely have to, eventually. I propose that we only tell people who won’t spread the secret, and that we inform one another every time we do.”

“I agree,” said Hadrian. Ursula was about to write it down as the first term in their courtship, but she paused. “What is it?”

“Well… what should we call this?” said Ursula. “Us?”

“Well, what are we?” said Hadrian.

“We are two friends forced together into a marriage of convenience to preserve two pureblood lines,” said Ursula. “I suppose  _ pure commodité _ could work. Pure convenience would hardly give away our situation, even to someone who spoke French.”

“ _ Pure commodité _ ,” mused Hadrian. “I like it.”

Ursula wrote the name of their arrangement at the top of the piece of parchment, then added everything they had said about telling other people.

“On a similar note,” she said, “I think we should only plan for the next year or so. I believe if we try to decide how we will deal with the future — marriage, splitting up before we get that far, whatever it is — we will constantly change the rules. So my view is that we should plan for the foreseeable future, and then plan again, and again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” joked Hadrian. “But in all seriousness, I think you’re right; we can’t decide everything now because there are too many unknowns.”

Ursula added that the arrangement was to be re-discussed over the summer, and that only the immediate future could be planned for at any time.

“There is one aspect among all of this unpredictability that we cannot avoid discussing any further,” said Ursula. “The Quidditch World Cup.”

“My…” Hadrian lowered his voice even further. “ _ My father was there _ . He practically said so when he returned to our tent. I didn’t dare ask him where he was, but I could tell.”

“I barely spoke to my uncle in the following weeks,” confessed Ursula. “He never mentioned it, but… he’s started having  _ friends _ over recently. I had to move Betelgeuse to Corvus Manor because he couldn’t stand being in the house with them.”

“Do you think they’re planning something?” said Hadrian. “Something to do with You-Know-Who?”

“I’m terrified to even think about it,” said Ursula. “But… if they are… how do we stay true to ourselves without being disowned by our families, or worse?”

“I have no idea,” said Hadrian. He squeezed Ursula’s hand. “I suppose that’s a conversation for if the worse happens.”

“I suppose so,” murmured Ursula.

“What’s next?” asked Hadrian.

“We could talk about how we should act in front of other people,” suggested Ursula.

“Like a couple, I would assume,” said Hadrian. “To keep up appearances.”

“Yes, but I believe we can rely on rumors for the majority of that,” said Ursula. “Like, if someone assumes we’re dating, don’t contradict them. Think of all the etiquette lessons you got and apply those to romantic gestures. Where the two meet, that’s what we should do.”

“So mostly little things, like hand-holding, touching your shoulders or back when you’re nearby, and hanging out together?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “Also pretending to whisper things to one another. I want to keep the overly affectionate displays to a minimum. Both because it isn’t proper, and because it feels awkward.”

“I agree,” said Hadrian. “So we pretend? We play like it’s a game, only with higher stakes?”

“It’s the only way I can think of,” said Ursula. “We’ll just do our best, so our families don’t find out about our arrangement.”

“Until when?” said Hadrian. “Until we break up? Until I come out to my parents?”

Ursula shook her head.

“Remember rule number two?” she said. “We can’t talk about that now because there are too many variables to plan for.”

“Right, right,” said Hadrian. “Is that it?”

“Almost,” said Ursula. “We still need to discuss what happens if feelings for other people get in the way.”

“Well, obviously we have to tell one another,” said Hadrian slowly. “That way if we need alibis or an excuse, we can back each other up.”

“And the relationship  _ must _ take place in complete secret,” said Ursula. “No one, and that means  _ no one _ who might expose us can ever know. It’s the only way we can protect ourselves and each other from humiliation.”

“That also means no public displays of affection or dates or meetings where someone who might recognize us could see,” said Hadrian.

“As far as our families and friends outside our innermost circles are concerned, you and I have begun courting one another,” said Ursula. “That makes us both off-limits.”

“Exactly,” said Hadrian. Ursula finished writing the last point, then signed her name at the bottom. When she was done, she offered her quill to Hadrian to do the saem.

**Pure Commité**

The rules for this arrangement are as follows:

Rule #1: Only people who are held in high confidence may know the truth, and the other party must be informed every time the secret is shared.

Rule #2: This agreement only applies to the next year, or the definable future, and must be revisited then.

Rule #3: Balance must be found between traditional and personal views, and any change to the current situation will be communicated and dealt with according to Rule #2.

Rule #4: Both parties must commit themselves to the facade to ensure this arrangement remains a secret, but traditional procedures for courting may be observed.

Rule #5: Should legitimate romantic feelings develop, any subsequent relationship must be conducted in total secrecy and with all due discreetness, in order to protect the reputation of both parties and respect the rules of this arrangement.

Rule #6: Should any of these rules no longer become viable, need amending, or do not adequately cover all terms, this document may be added to at any time.

  
  


Ursula Black

Hadrian Rowle   


When Ursula left the library ten minutes late, once the ink had dried, she discovered that a light rain had started to fall, with misty clouds blanketing Hogwarts. After another Transfiguration class with raccoons, she had Defense Against the Dark Arts, where the students were more antsy for the Halloween feast that evening.

By half past five it was growing dark, and soon the Slytherins headed up from their common room for the Halloween feast — and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

Ursula was already seated at the Slytherin table when Hadrian and the other Durmstrang students entered, led by Karkaroff and Viktor. Hadrian led his friends over to Ursula and the others, and he squeezed in between her and Cassius, putting a casual arm over her shoulders. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Professor Dumbledore’s empty chair at the teachers’ table. Fred and George — clean-shaven again — seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Professor Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Ursula simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” — he indicated the door behind the staff table — “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting… A few people kept checking their watches…

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

Professor Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm’s length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, in a strong, clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“Go Viktor!” shouted Hadrian, taking his disappointment well and whistling, clapping his friend on the back.

Viktor rose from his seat at the Slytherin table and slouched towards Professor Dumbledoree; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

“Bravo, Viktor!” boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. “Knew you had it in you!”

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone’s attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Professor Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”

A stunningly pretty girl rose from the Beauxbatons table and made her way gracefully to Professor Dumbledore. She was tall and willowy, with long, silvery-blonde hair that fell nearly to her waist and a captivating, gracious smile.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement Ursula could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Professor Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment. Cassius crossed his fingers hopefully.

“The Hogwarts champion,” he called, “is Cedric Diggory!”

The uproar from the yellow-and-black table was immediate. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers’ table. The other Houses clapped and cheered as well, though not nearly as loud, for Cedric was very well liked. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Professor Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

“Excellent!” Professor Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —”

But Professor Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Professor Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Professor Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Professor Dumbledore. And then Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

“ _ Harry Potter _ .”

Every head in the Great Hall rippled to look at Harry, who looked just as shocked as Ursula felt. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

“I can’t believe this,” said Adrian, scowling.

“How the hell did he enter?” snapped Hadrian.

Similar sentiments were echoed all around the Great Hall. At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

“Harry Potter!” he called again. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Hundreds of eyes followed him as he walked; narrowed, unfriendly eyes. The buzzing grew louder and louder.

“Well… through the door, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore. He wasn’t smiling.

The students only grew angrier after Harry had left the hall, and loud, angry voices spoke up all at once, voicing their outrage. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were just as angry, if not angrier. Some people thought it had to be a joke. But everyone wanted to know how Harry had done it.

As the silence faded away, the Gryffindor table began to celebrate. If this was no mistake, then they had a champion competing for them. But their celebratory tones only enraged the other students, particularly the Hufflepuffs, and Professor Dumbledore dismissed everyone before any fights could break out.

As the hall emptied, Ludo Bagman hurried off into the door where the champions had gone, followed by Professor Dumbledore, Madam Maxime, Barty Crouch, and Karkaroff, as well as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Moody.

Ursula stopped a little ways away from the front doors with Hadrian, whose jaw was set in anger and frustration.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” echoed Ursula. “I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will get to the bottom of this.”

“It’s just… it’s just so unfair, you know?” said Hadrian.

“I know,” said Ursula. “I know. And I know you really wanted to be the champion.”

“I’m happy for Viktor,” said Hadrian. “We stand a chance of winning with him as our champion.”

“You’d stand a better chance if you were the champion,” teased Ursula gently, trying to lighten the mood. It worked. Hadrian smiled.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” he said. Vincent was standing by the front doors, gesturing to Hadrian to hurry up.

“I think you’d better go,” said Ursula. Hadrian nodded.

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said. “We have a plan now.”

“Our arrangement,” said Ursula. “ _ Pure commodité _ .”

“All we have to do is stick to it now,” said Hadrian.

“‘ _ All _ ’. You make it sound so easy,” said Ursula with a sigh.

“You can do it.  _ We _ can do it,” said Hadrian, hugging her. His chin rested on the top of her head.

“Hadrian, come on!” called Vincent.

“I’m coming!” called Hadrian. He looked down at Ursula. “Bye.”

“Bye,” she said. She watched Hadrian leave with his friends, took a deep breath, and headed down to her dorm. The Slytherin common room was filled with people talking angrily about the events of the feast.

“It’s always  _ Potter _ ,” spat Draco to his friends as Ursula passed. Ursula sighed and headed to her room.

She found the piece of parchment describing her arrangement with Hadrian among her homework, and slid it carefully into its hiding place, stuck deep inside a large, old book that had come from — and would soon return to — Corvus Manor.

“That’s the most exciting Halloween feast we’ve had since the troll in third year,” said Gemma, as Ursula sat down at her desk and pulled her Ancient Runes homework towards her.

“To be honest, I could do without the excitement,” said Ursula. “I feel we all have enough to worry about as is.”

Gemma nodded in agreement, and then there was silence between the two girls. Ursula kept listing the rules she and Hadrian had come up with for their arrangement, for from tomorrow on it was essential that she obey them. The board was set, the players were ready, and all they had to do now was play to win.

Ursula wished the task didn’t sound so monumental.


	63. Charlie Weasley

Ursula and Hadrian began to follow the terms of their arrangement the very next day. It was like an elaborate dance as, over the next few weeks, Ursula and Hadrian exchanged shy glances and witty remarks, punctuated by Ursula looking demurely away, tucking a curl behind her ear, or Hadrian looking at her when he laughed, as a sign that he was sharing the moment.

Ursula explained everything to Lilian, and later to Adrian and a surprised Cassius. But she still hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell Gemma and Vanessa. The latter in particular had no idea Ursula’s courtship was a sham.

True enough, Ursula had been right when she said rumors would do most of the work for them. One peck on the cheek at breakfast, and Ursula and Hadrian were the most talked about couple at Hogwarts. One whisper into the other’s ear and they were in love, perfect for each other, two unattainable yet devastatingly attractive people who only had eyes for each other.

Generally, their so-called secrets that appeared to be whispered to one another, with a laugh or gentle giggle as a reaction, weren’t so much confessions of love but a bit more mundane.

For instance, at dinner one night Ursula smiled, fluttered her eyelashes, leaned over so she was practically speaking into Hadrian’s shoulder, and said, “I have so much goddamn Ancient Runes homework it’s unbelievable.”

Another time, Hadrian leaned over so that he was inches away from Ursula’s ear, glanced around like he was sharing a secret, and whispered, “Karkaroff snores louder than you’d believe.”

It became easier, with time, to act attracted to one another. They had always been friends, so they already had an easy relationship with one another, but now they had to learn how to act romantic. Eventually, they settled into the rhythm of it, and were less and less worried about others finding out, even as the stakes threatened to go higher.

For Ursula, that meant remembering etiquette lessons from years past, from her governess and her aunt and her grandmother. Acting in love, or something close to it, meant ducking her head and smiling, looking up at Hadrian through her eyelashes whenever he passed her in the hallway. It meant sitting just close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other, close enough to be more than friends but not so close it was improper. It meant forcing a blush to rise to her cheeks when he was mentioned, to indicate her shy affection.

All she had to do was look pretty, say nothing, and marry well. Ursula could do that. She started with the first one: look pretty. That should be easy. She started paying special attention to how her hair looked each morning, more attention than she usually paid. She kept wrinkles out of her clothes and wore just the right amount of makeup. She arranged her hair to frame her face and bring out her grey eyes.

Say nothing was harder. It was harder to pretend there was nothing afoot when she received letters from home, when she could read between the lines of Lucius’s letters or when Narcissa mentioned in passing that some old friends had come to visit. It was much harder not to question things, not to speak up even though something felt out of place, but Ursula tried.

As for marry well… that fell under Rule #2 of  _ Pure Commité _ . Ursula would cross — or, if she needed to, burn — that bridge when she came to it.

In public, Ursula and Hadrian were the picture of a proper courtship. They knew just what to say, how to act, and how to appear to others. But when they were alone, they sat apart and studied quietly, like friends and nothing more. Because despite all of the pressure to be together, that was all they would ever be. Friends, and nothing more.

Meanwhile, no one had figured out how Harry Potter had managed to enter the Triwizard Tournament. Ursula supported Cedric as the Hogwarts champion, but she could also smell a rat, and was all the more suspicious when Harry kept claiming he hadn’t entered himself.

The issue of how Harry had entered the tournament — and, more importantly, him being a champion in said tournament — divided the school, and Ursula had to admit it felt nice not to be the odd one out. Instead of the usual Slytherin versus the rest of the school, it was the Gryffindors who everyone else opposed.

The Gryffindors were thrilled to have a champion compete for them. The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, who were usually on good terms with the Gryffindors, were vehemently opposed, and felt like Cedric had been robbed of the glory owed to them. The Ravenclaws thought Harry was looking for more fame by entering. The Slytherin attitude was to be expected — the majority of them weren’t about to support Gryffindor if they could help it.

Draco wasn’t helping. About a week and a half after Halloween, he began handing out large badges that said, in luminous red letters:

**Support CEDRIC DIGGORY —**

**The REAL Hogwarts Champion**

Then, when the badge was pressed, the message vanished, replaced this time by one in green:

**POTTER STINKS**

Ursula was onboard with supporting Cedric, but she wasn’t about to wear a badge. Her biggest issue, if she was being honest, was that they were simply too gaudy to be worn.

Several days after the champions had been chosen, an article appeared in the Daily Prophet. Now, Ursula knew not to trust anything Rita Skeeter wrote, but this article was ridiculous even for her standards. It had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of Harry. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Harry, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn’t been mentioned at all.

_ I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I _

_ know they’d be very proud of me if they could see _

_ me now… Yes, sometimes at night I still cry _

_ about them, I’m not ashamed to admit it… I _

_ know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, _

_ because they’re watching over me… _

“This is just…” said Ursula, waving the offending article.

“Ridiculous?” offered Lilian.

“Shamelessly embellished?” said Adrian.

“Mildly offensive?” said Cassius. “Aside from not mentioning Cedric at all, that Skeeter woman goes on to involve herself in the wildly inaccurate and completely falsified account of teenage love affairs.”

_ Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close _

_ friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen _

_ out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a _

_ stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, _

_ is one of the top students in the school. _

“Who is Colin Creevey?” said Lilian, snatching the paper from Cassius’s hands to read it for herself.

“A little mousy-haired Gryffindor third year,” said Adrian. “Remember, he got petrified two years ago.”

“Well, this article is a load of bollocks,” said Cassius. They all agreed.

As Hadrian began courting Ursula and tensions over the Triwizard Tournament mounted, she still had to contend with all of her school work. In Care of Magical Creatures, the skrewts were still growing and still killing each other, leading to Hagrid keeping them in separate crates.

“Righ’,” he said, when Ursula, the Weasley twins, and Rue were all there. “I think the reason they’ve been killing each other is that they’ve go’ too much energy, yeh see. So today yer gonna take ‘em for a walk.”

“How?” asked Rue, sensibly.

“Put the leash ‘round the middle, like this, see,” said Hagrid, demonstrating. “Yeh migh’ want ter wear yer dragon-hide gloves, jus’ in case…”

The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs — but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control. As expected, it was very difficult to get the leash on, and all four students suffered minor burns trying.

Once the leash was on, however, it didn’t become any easier to control the skrewts. Every now and then, with an alarming  _ bang _ , one of the skrewts’ ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and often dragging the student walking it along with it.

Rue was the first to be dragged by one of the skrewts, but only by a few seconds. All four of them fell at one point, and they were all distinctly dirty by the time class was over. Ursula was panting as she got the last skrewt back into its crate, and her uniform was rumpled.

“I migh’ have a surprise for yeh all next week,” called Hagrid as he dismissed them. His eyes twinkled. “I can’t say what it is, o’ course.”

“Looking forward to it,” said Ursula, as she trudged back up to the castle. Seeing as it was Wednesday afternoon, she had a double free period when some of her friends had Arithmancy, so she had plenty of time to shower and change before dinner.

Ursula was in the library pouring over a Charms essay when someone stopped in front of her desk and coughed gently.

“Yes?” said Ursula, looking up. In front of her was a petite girl with straight, dark brown hair and an even smile. She wore the Beauxbatons uniform. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Ursula Black?” asked the girl, in a thick French accent. Ursula nodded.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “Do I know you?”

The girl shook her head.

“No, we ‘ave never met,” she said. “I am Celeste Rosier. My muzzer is Theodosia Rosier, née Lestrange.”

“Does she have a brother named Rodolphus?” said Ursula. Celeste’s face lit up. “I have an aunt — Bellatrix Lestrange — who’s married to a Rodolphus Lestrange.”

“Yes!” she said. “Of course, ‘e is not considered a part of our family anymore, nor is ‘is brother Rabastan. But  _ Maman _ wants to piece together ze family tree, where ze sacred lines intersect, and said zat you would be able to help. She ‘opes to ‘ave ze most accurate ‘istory since Cantankerous Nott’s  _ Pure-Blood Directory _ .”

“I’d be happy to,” said Ursula. She shifted aside a stack of books. “Please, sit.”

Celeste sat happily, and pulled a thick book out of her bag. When she opened it, a paper tree sprung up, showing the names of the most recent children of the Rosier and Lestrange lines.

“Zis is me,” she said, pointing to one of the top branches. At her touch, that particular branch grew large enough to read the names. “Zis is my sister Amabelle and my brozer Lionel. My sister is married to an Englishman, Leopold Fawley.”

“I know him,” said Ursula. “His brother Reginald got married to Josephine Burke in August.”

“My grandfather ‘ad a brother whose son, Corbin, married Victoria Burke,” said Celeste. A second branch rose up on the page to show where the two families intertwined. “I ‘ave a lot of questions about ze British pureblood lines. Do you zink zat you can help me?”

“Of course,” said Ursula. “I’m curious to find out about the French branches as well. Where would you like to start.”

“Wiz your family,” said Celeste, pulling out a piece of parchment and readying her quill. “I never met my aunt Bellatrix, so we have no account for ze Black family.”

“You’re in luck,” said Ursula. “My family has kept detailed records of every descendant for centuries.”

“Excellent,” said Celeste. “Zank you for your help. It is most appreciated.”

Ursula was more than happy to give up her free period to learn more about her extended family. Celeste told her that there were two surviving Lestrange lines in France, since none had resided in Britain since Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan were put in Azkaban. She said that her uncle Pierre and his wife had two children, Odelia and Philippe Lestrange. The second cousin Corbin she mentioned had an older sister, Lucretia, who had two sons with Patrice Levasseur, a solely French pureblooded line. Corbin himself had two children, Axel and Isabelle Lestrange.

In turn, Ursula was able to recount the many marriages of the elitist purebloods in Britain, creating a large mess of intertwined lines. She fetched her own genealogy book from her dorm — it was one of the ones she had asked for from Corvus Manor because it described the spells used to ward around the house — and showed Celeste that all she had to do was speak a name of a known pureblood and their family line would appear.

Celeste wasn’t the only distant family that popped up over the next few days, albeit she was the most distant. Hadrian’s cousins, three of the four of whom were still at Hogwarts, stopped by to say hello. Edith had graduated a year previously, Casper was a fifth year, Amos was a third year, and little Viola Rowle was a second year. Casper in particular was thrilled to see his cousin.

“Hi Hadrian!” he said eagerly at breakfast one morning.

“Ah, hello Casper, how are you?” said Hadrian, turning around.

“I’m doing great!” said Casper, with a wide smile. “And, er, hello Miss Black.”

“You can call her Ursula,” said Hadrian. “Well? How is school going? How are your friends?”

“My classes are going pretty good,” said Casper. “Arthur is a prefect, of course, and some of the other lads were looking forward to Quidditch tryouts, which of course never happened. Speaking of Quidditch, Miss Black — er, Ursula — you’re really good. Like,  _ really _ good.”

Casper rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed.

“Thank you for the compliment,” said Ursula, smiling at him.

“And Professor McGonagall always talks about you in Transfiguration,” continued Casper. “I’m rubbish at it. She talks about you and Cedric — Cedric Diggory. Well, of course  _ you _ know who Cedric is. I mean, everyone does, but the two of you are friends, and —”

“Yes, she and Cedric are good friends,” said Hadrian, cutting smoothly into his cousin’s ramblings.

“If you ever need help in Transfiguration, just let me know and I’d be happy to tutor you,” said Ursula. Casper positively beamed.

“You mean it? Really? That would be fantastic!” he said. “Thank you so much. Er — I’ll just leave now. Bye Hadrian! Thanks Ursula!”

“He’s a nice boy, isn’t he?” said Ursula as Casper left.

“Yes, he is,” said Hadrian. “I don’t know how one of my uncles ended up in Azkaban and the other ended up a Healer with four kids. I do like Uncle Barnaby.”

“Yes, I remember him quite well,” said Ursula. “Fair hair, big belly, jolly laugh? Strange that we both have uncles named Barnaby, however.”

“I hadn’t realized that,” said Hadrian. “To be honest, I don’t know anything about your father’s side of the family. I’d like to, if you’ll tell me.”

“Of course,” said Ursula. “I forgot I hadn’t already. I’ve been meaning to.”

She stood up.

“Come on,” she said. “I have some time before Alchemy.”

“We can’t just do it here?” said Hadrian.

“Only a handful of people know who my father is,” Ursula reminded him.

“Right, right,” said Hadrian. He swiped a piece of toast in a napkin and followed her out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons.

Ursula led Hadrian down the winding stairs until at last they reached the dungeons, and eventually the bare stretch of stone that led to the Slytherin common room.

“I thought we couldn’t do it in the Great Hall because there were too many people,” said Hadrian. “Wouldn’t the risk of Slytherins overhearing be worse?”

“That’s a fair point,” said Ursula. “But almost everyone is still up at breakfast, and I need to get a photo album from my dorm to show you.  _ Cockatrice _ ,” she added, and the bare stretch of stone opened to reveal a passageway.

“Is it okay for me to be in here?” said Hadrian, following Ursula hesitantly through the stone passageway. Ursula snorted.

“People actually visit the other common rooms far more often than you may think,” said Ursula. “I entered the Ravenclaw common room on a dare in third year — all you have to do is answer a riddle.”

The common room was, as Ursula predicted, nearly deserted. She told Hadrian to sit down on one of the couches while she fetched the photo album from her trunk in her dorm. Ursula sat down beside him and opened the album to the first page.

“I know who that is!” said Hadrian. “That’s Newt Scamander!”

Ursula shushed him.

“There may not be a lot of people in here, but they still have ears,” she said.

“Right, sorry, I forgot,” said Hadrian, lowering his voice.

“Those are my great grandparents with their three kids,” said Ursula. “Laurence, on the right, is my grandpa. The other two are Gwendolyn, who lives in America, and Alistair.”

“What about that picture?” said Hadrian, pointing to the next one. “Is that your grandfather?”

Ursula nodded.

“Mmhm,” she said. “That’s him and my grandma, Margaret — Maggie for short — in the first house they owned, and Maggie’s first house in Britain. They bought it right after getting married.”

“Ah, so your grandmother is American,” said Hadrian.

“Yes, but my grandfather convinced her to send their kids to Hogwarts, like he and Newt,” continued Ursula, turning the page. She didn’t have time to show Hadrian every picture, so she picked just the most important ones. “This is my dad, Ken, and his brother Barnaby. We call him Uncle Bat.”

“Is that your aunt, then?” said Hadrian, as Ursula turned another page. She nodded.

“That’s Aunt Willa,” said Ursula. “And here, these are their kids. That’s Leon, the oldest. He’s a third year Ravenclaw. And there, that’s his sister Beatrice. She’s a Gryffindor, in first year. Felix is eight. I have one other cousin who’s at Hogwarts right now — Rolf. He’s a fifth year Hufflepuff, and Alistair’s grandson.”

“What about —” began Hadrian.

“Hey Black!”

Ursula shut the album with a snap.

“Hello Jacob,” she said crisply, turning around to face Jacob Selwyn. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Just wondered what Rowle was doing in our common room,” said Jacob, his eyes glinting maliciously. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Ursula was telling me about the Black family tree,” lied Hadrian smoothly.

“Was she now?” said Jacob.

“If you’re implying anything improper I suggest you correct yourself now by not speaking any further,” said Ursula sharply. “Lest one of us prove offensive to the other.”

“Of course,” said Jacob with a slight sneer. “We wouldn’t want that.”

He stalked away. Ursula checked the time, then jumped up to return the book to her library.

“It’s nearly eight,” she said. “I have to get to Alchemy.”

“I’ll see you later,” said Hadrian. “Me and some of the other guys are going down to the lake to swim and workout later.”

“If I come it’s only to make sure no one else hits on you,” said Ursula. Hadrian laughed.

“My hero,” he said.

The first task of the Triwizard Tournament was to take place on Saturday, November 26th. This put Hagrid’s surprise just two days previously, during third period Care of Magical Creatures on Thursday. And boy, oh boy, was it an excellent surprise, for Ursula especially.

“Follow me,” said Hagrid. “An’ remember, yeh can’t say anything ter the champions. They don’ know ‘bout the firs’ task, yeh see. They don’ know tha’ it’s ‘bout dragons.”

“Wait, dragons?” said Ursula, stopping in her tracks. “Like, real dragons? Like, full-sized, fire-breathing, actual dragons?!”

“I though’ yeh’d be excited,” said Hagrid, chuckling. “Run on ahead now, jus’ through the trees there, and yeh’ll find Charlie Weasley.”

Ursula wasted no time. She hurried along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, walking so far around the perimeter that the castle and the lake were out of sight. Soon, she could hear shouting and the crackle of fire, and shortly after that she emerged into a large clearing and was greeted by an earsplitting roar.

“Wow!”

“Ursula, over here!”

Ursula looked away from the dragons long enough to see Charlie Weasley running towards her. She hadn’t seen him for sometime now, but he looked practically the same. He was stocky, with muscular arms and a face so freckled it looked tan. His fingers were covered in calluses and blisters and there was a small burn on one of his arms. It appeared he had begun growing out his hair.

“Charlie, hi!” she said, shaking his hand. She would’ve hugged him had he not been so dirty and sweaty.

“Hagrid said you’d be here,” said Charlie. “Honestly, I would’ve been disappointed if you weren’t.”

“I wouldn’t give up on my favorite class,” said Ursula. Charlie grinned broadly.

“Alright, I’m going to test you, then,” he said. “Take a look around at the four dragons we have here, and tell me what breed they are.”

Ursula finally got a chance to have a good look at the dragons. Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting — torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. Ursula thought it was all terribly exciting.

There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them.

As Ursula and Charlie watched, the smooth-scaled green one was separated from the rest by six or seven wizards. The dragon calmed down once she was on her own — Ursula could tell she was female by the spikes on her head.

“That’s a Common Welsh Green,” said Ursula. “And the blue one, who’s calming down now, that’s a Swedish Short-Snout. The red one is a Chinese Fireball, and the last one, that gigantic black beauty, she’s a Hungarian Horntail.”

“Very good,” said Charlie. “I’ll take you closer once your classmates get here — ah, here they are. Hello Hagrid!”

“Hey there Charlie!” called Hagrid, waving an enormous hand in greeting.

“Charlie!” chorused Fred and George, beaming at their brother. Rue, too, spoke to Charlie with a degree of familiarity.

“So this is the first task, then?” said Rue, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“That’s right,” said Charlie. “Now, you four can’t tell anyone —”

The four sixth years rolled their eyes at his mock stern tone.

“— but the champions have to get past the dragons for the first task,” he continued. “We’ll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, but I’m not about to put their eggs in danger, so we brought their eggs for comfort and are using a duplicate nest for the task itself.”

“Do the dragons know that the eggs will be duplicates?” asked Ursula. Charlie nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been training them for a couple weeks now,” he said. “They’ll be protective, of course, but they know the eggs aren’t really theirs.”

“It’s pretty dangerous, then, isn’t it?” said Fred, with a look of haf relief and have longing on his face.

“Yeah, let’s hope the champions won’t get burnt to a crisp,” added George.

Charlie shrugged.

“Yeah, the champions will definitely have a challenge facing them,” he said. “Particularly the Horntail. She’s the great black one, over there.”

“Is it possible to get a closer look?” asked Ursula, craning her neck.

Grinning, Charlie said, “Right this way.”

He led her and the others through the camp, which was bustling with dragonologists. They stopped quite a ways away from the Hungarian Horntail, because as another dragon tamer pointed out, she could expel fire up to forty feet. Ursula stared up at her with utter fascination.

The Horntail was pitch black with sinewy wings, one of which was bent in protection of her clutch of eggs, which were each enormous, easily four times the size of a thunderbird egg if not larger. She had vertical pupils like a cat, and seemed to regard Ursula and the others with wariness.

“She trusts us, you see,” said Charlie, who walked a great deal closer. The Horntail barely blinked at them. “They’re quite loyal, once you get to know them. Rather like dogs, really.”

“Enormous, scaly, fire-breathing, flying, potentially deadly dogs,” said Rue.

“Marvelous, aren’t they?” said Ursula, eyes sparkling.

“I think you can come a bit closer,” said Charlie, gesturing to her. He motioned to one of the other dragonologists. “Why don’t the rest of you go with Felix here and he’ll answer any questions you have. I’ll stay here with Ursula.”

“Rest assured, I have a lot of questions,” said Ursula.

Fred linked his arm with Rue’s, George doing the same on her other side, and they marched back to the Welsh Green’s pen.

“I’ve never seen her so excited,” said Fred, grinning and looking back to where Ursula was peppering Charlie with questions about the Hungarian Horntail.

“Or so talkative,” murmured Rue.

An hour later, and one that had gone by far too quickly for Ursula’s liking, and she declared it was the best lesson she’d ever had. Hagrid chuckled, looking delighted.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he said. “Makes me sad ter leave ‘em. Remember, yeh can’t tell anyone about the task beforehand.”

“Got it,” said George.

Ursula headed up to lunch as the great bell echoed across the grounds, every second spent with the dragons etched vividly into her memory. She certainly wouldn’t spill the secret, as it was too great to spoil for anyone else, though she doubted anyone at Hogwarts would be as excited as she was. Indeed, Ursula went to bed dreaming of dragons.


	64. The First Task

Ursula hadn’t even made it to breakfast the next morning, still thinking about dragons, when Cedric stopped her in the entrance hall.

“Hey Cedric, what’s up?” she said. “Are you ready for the first task tomorrow?”

“Er, yeah, that’s actually what I want to talk to you about,” he said. He gestured towards an alcove a little off the hall, and Ursula followed him over to it. “So, the first task is, uh…”

Ursula waited. Cedric seemed not to know how to say it.

“I know it’s dragons,” said Ursula. “Hagrid took us to see them yesterday.”

Cedric looked relieved.

“Harry told me yesterday,” he said. “I’m glad you already know. I was up late last night researching spells that could help me. I found one about transforming a rock into a dog, and I think I could distract the dragon that way, but it’s really complicated. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Sure,” said Ursula, smiling. “Er — I don’t have any free periods today, but we could practice during lunch and before dinner?”

“Sounds great. Thank you so much,” said Cedric. “You’re the best.”

“I’m happy to help,” said Ursula.

She headed into the Great Hall and took her seat at the Slytherin table.

“Morning,” said Cassius, his jaw popping as he yawned.

“Anything interesting in the paper?” asked Ursula, as her own copy arrived. Adrian shrugged.

“Nothing much,” he said. “Pass the sausages, please.”

Ursula also received two letters — one from Narcissa and Lucius, and the other —

“Hadrian?” said Ursula, holding up the letter she had just received from an unfamiliar tawny owl. “Why is your mother writing to me?”

Hadrian’s head shot up. He had been snoozing on his arms.

“Here, let me see —”

But Ursula kept the letter out of his reach, giggling playfully. She shoved him out of the way and opened it, her smile dying.

_ Dearest Ursula, _

_ I hope this letter will not be seen as an imposition or taken as offence, because I truly mean to wish you all the best and only hope to provide you with some guidance. Montgomery and I are wonderfully pleased to hear that you and Hadrian have begun the courtship process but I must caution you not to move too quickly. _

_ You see, we have received reports of our son visiting you in your common room. While I do not mean to imply that anything improper took place, you know how frightful gossip can be. Perhaps the somewhat inferior circumstances of your birth have led you to feel the need to secure a husband quickly. Never fear, dear. You and Hadrian will make a fine match all in due time, and there is no need to rush into anything. _

_ I also wonder if this sudden move is due to any outside pressure, but I shall assure myself that you understand the proper way to do this sort of thing. Rest assured that I am only thinking of what’s best for you and your reputation. I look forward to hearing more news on the progression of your and Hadrian’s relationship. _

_ All the best, _

_ Anastasia Rowle _

“Your mother thinks I’m a slut,” announced Ursula.

“What?” said Hadrian, choking on his orange juice. Across the table, Cassius exploded into laughter and Lilian dissolved into giggles. Ursula handed Hadrian the letter.

“She warns me not to overstep the traditional rules of a courtship and thinks inviting you into the common room was a step too far,” said Ursula. “She also adds that just because of the ‘inferior circumstances’ of my birth, I should feel no need to compensate by moving quickly to secure a relationship.”

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” said Hadrian. “I’ll write to her and correct this, I swear.”

“Why — why were you in the common room?” managed Cassius between laughs.

“I was showing him some family pictures,” said Ursula. “How did your mother even find out?”

“No idea,” said Hadrian. “I never even told her about it.”

“This is terrible for you, I’m so sorry,” said Lilian, though she was still bursting with giggles. Ursula rolled her eyes and smiled. “To think — that you —”

She and Cassius lapsed into a fresh round of laughter. Ursula’s eyes narrowed and landed on a particular sixth year Slytherin a little ways down the table from where she was sitting. He was casually reading the paper while Vanessa chatted with him.

“I’ll see y’all in Potions,” said Ursula, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’m off to History of Magic.”

“I can walk with you,” offered Hadrian, prompting Ursula to recall the terms of their agreement. She smiled, though it was entirely fake, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Not today,” she said. “Oh, and I’m helping Cedric with Transfiguration at lunch, so I won’t see you until dinner.”

“Alright,” said Hadrian. “See you then.”

Ursula departed the Great Hall, looking for a particular set of redheads. She  _ was _ headed to History of Magic, but she had a small task of revenge to deal with beforehand. They were easy to spot, strolling across the entrance hall with Lee Jordan, and she hurried over to them.

“Hey!” she called, causing them to stop and turn.

“What’s the rush, Black?” said Fred, as she came to a stop in front of them.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something,” said Ursula.

“What sort of something?” asked Lee.

“Do tell,” prompted George.

“How fast could you prank someone on short notice?” asked Ursula. “I want to get revenge on someone.”

The Weasleys and Lee grinned and shared excited looks with one another.

“A prefect? Wanting to prank someone?” teased Fred.

“And revenge, she’s clearly not messing around,” added George.

“Who on?” said Lee.

“Jacob Selwyn,” said Ursula. This delighted the boys even more. She knew they never passed up an opportunity to prank a Slytherin, much less one they didn’t like.

“Why?” asked Fred.

“He wrote to Hadrian’s mother and said something about me that wasn’t true,” said Ursula. “I thought it was quite rude of him, and I think it’s time he learned his lesson.”

“Yes, how rude,” said Fred seriously.

“Very,” added George. Ursula sighed good-naturedly.

“We can probably work something out,” said Lee. George gave a fake long-suffering sigh.

“But on such short notice —” he said.

“I’ll pay you, if you like,” offered Ursula.

Before George could speak, Fred jumped in and said, “There’s no need.”

“Great,” said Ursula. “His only class today is double Charms, in fifth period. Thanks again.”

She left, and arrived in History of Magic plenty early. It was lunchtime when Ursula, just popping in to grab a sandwich before meeting Cedric to help him learn the spell for the first task, saw the effects of the prank. Ursula was impressed that they had been able to work so fast.

Jacob sat at the Slytherin table with the word LIAR across his forehead in crimson block letters. He was also covered in gold glitter, which seemed strangely to stick to him and nothing else. He looked very angry; Ursula was very pleased. She grinned and gave a thumbs up to Fred, George, and Lee, who all looked supremely satisfied with themselves.

“Hey, where are you going?” said Cassius. “Did you see the good news?”

“I’m helping Cedric with something,” said Ursula. “And yes, I did.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in Charms, then,” said Cassius, cutting his apple into slices.

Ursula found Cedric waiting for her in the entrance hall.

“Ready?” she said. Cedric nodded. He handed her an open book.

“That’s what I want to do,” he said. “But it looks complicated.

“It’s not a  _ complex _ spell, exactly, it’s just difficult because of the size,” said Ursula, tracing the wand movement with her hand. “Large transfiguration is always harder.” She looked up at Cedric. “Maybe we should go outside to the lake? You’ll need a rock to practice on.”

Cedric agreed, and they headed outside. It was a chilly November day with winds that reddened their cheeks. Cedric found a moderately sized rock — or a small boulder — to practice on, but Ursula tossed him a much smaller rock to try first.

“You need to be able to do the spell first,” she said. “Then you can experiment with size.”

It was a difficult spell. Ursula stood on the shore of the Black Lake, skipping rocks — she discovered that she was quite good at it — across the smooth surface while Cedric tried the spell. Finally, after a good couple-dozen attempts and some corrected wand movements, Cedric managed it, and a yorkie barked and nipped at their heels until Cedric turned it back into a rock.

“Well done!” said Ursula. “You’ve got it now; all you have to do is transform the large rock this time.”

“It’s nearly one,” said Cedric, checking his watch. “We should get to Ancient Runes.”

“Good catch,” said Ursula. “We’ll come back after Charms, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks again for your help,” said Cedric. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, you could’ve,” said Ursula. “I just sped up the process.”

Cedric laughed as they entered the warm castle.

“So, are you ready to face a dragon?” asked Ursula.

“Not really,” admitted Cedric. “I mean, it’s a  _ dragon _ . I don’t think you can fully prepare for something like that. But to the best of my abilities, yes, I’m ready.”

“Good,” said Ursula. “I’m confident that you’ll do great.”

“That makes one of us,” said Cedric.

After Ancient Runes and double Charms, in which Jacob still had the word LIAR across his forehead and was shedding gold glitter everywhere he went, Ursula and Cedric returned to the Black Lake. The sun was setting and the wind whipped around them by the time Cedric mastered the spell, and had a fully transformed labrador bounding around on the beach.

Ursula had transformed into her Animagus by that time to fight the cold, and was happily occupied with rolling small rocks around and giving Cedric growls of encouragement. The dog barked at her and she growled right back, before transforming back into a person and hugging Cedric in congratulations.

“There, you’ve done it!” she said. “Now you’re all set for tomorrow.”

“Wish me luck,” said Cedric, grinning in triumph.

“Good luck, for tomorrow and the following tasks,” said Ursula. “I’m quite sure you don’t need luck to win, but it’s always good to have a little extra luck, isn’t it?”

“It’s reassuring to have it from you,” said Cedric. He flicked his wand, turning the dog back into a small black and grey boulder, and the returned to the castle for dinner.

The next morning, Ursula slept in, knowing the task wasn’t until after lunch. The morning passed slowly, filled with lots of anticipation, but halfway through lunch Professor McGonagall said it was time for the champions to go down to the grounds to prepare for the first task. They left, and the Great Hall buzzed with noise in their absence, with students making bets about what the first task would be and how each of the champions would do.

At noon, students began to head down to a stadium that had been erected around a large, rocky enclosure. Ursula could hear the roar of the dragons just beyond the trees. It was a chilly November afternoon, so Hadrian casually rested his arm around Ursula’s shoulders.

“It’s almost time!” said Cassius, checking his watch.

Indeed it was. One by one, dragonologists carried the duplicates of the Swedish Short-Snout’s large blue-and-silver eggs into the enclosure, with a much smaller golden egg nestled between them, and then, to the wild applause of the crowd, the dragon herself followed. A whistle sounded.

“I give you… CEDRIC DIGGORY!” shouted Bagman, his voice magically magnified again. The crowd roared with applause as Cedric stepped nervously into the enclosure, wand at the ready.

“Come on Cedric!” shouted Ursula, as Cedric dodged a spout of fire from the dragon. He had to get close enough to the eggs to use the spell they had practiced.

It was very stressful to watch, and Ursula couldn’t imagine how the champions must feel. The crowd screamed… yelled… gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric used every spell he knew to get close, inching towards the nest of eggs before being forced back by a column of fire. Bagman’s commentary only added to Ursula’s anxiety: “Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow” … “He’s taking risks, this one!” … “Clever move — pity it didn’t work!”

Finally, after about fifteen minutes, Cedric got close enough to the nest. Ursula couldn’t hear the spell over the noise of the crowd, but one of the massive rocks in the enclosure twitched, shuddered, and transformed into a large black labrador, whose bark sounded like the crackle of gravel.

Cedric flicked his wand, and the dog barked, running the opposite direction of where he was. The dragon followed, giving Cedric time to run to the nest and snatch the golden egg. Unfortunately, just as his hands closed on the egg, the dragon decided it would rather have him than the labrador.

Ursula screamed as Cedric dodged the dragon’s fire just half a second too late. The crowd gasped as the fire singed his shirtsleeve, leaving a red burn on half of his face and making his hair smoke. Cedric didn’t look too worse for wear, however, as he hopped out of the enclosure, even as Madam Pomfrey bustled over to him. The dragon was led away as the judges decided what scores to award Cedric.

“Very good indeed!” Bagman was shouting. “And now the marks from the judges!”

Madam Maxime raised her wand. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large seven.

“She must’ve taken points off since he got burned,” said Lilian.

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number eight into the air. Next, Professor Dumbledore. He put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

“Way to go Cedric!” shouted Cassius.

Ludo Bagman put up an eight as well, and Karkaroff finished it off with a meager six, at which the crowd booed.

“He just hates Hogwarts,” said Adrian.

“He hates everyone,” said Hadrian.

Having received his scores, Cedric waved to the crowd which roared back at him, then disappeared into a second tent to get his face cleaned up.

“One down, three to go!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again, and the dragonologists brought the Common Welsh Green into the enclosure. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”

Fleur stepped out of the champions’ tent. She was trembling from head to foot but gripped her wand resolutely.

The same process started again… “Oh I’m not sure that was wise!” Bagman shouted gleefully. “Oh… nearly! Careful now… good lord, I thought she’d had it then!”

Ultimately, ten minutes later, Fleur pulled off a difficult sleeping spell to get past the dragon. While she was retrieving the egg, however, the dragon snored, letting out a jet of flame that set her skirt alight. She put it out quickly before any damage was done, and retrieved her golden egg without any further difficulty. The crowd clapped, with the Beauxbatons students clapping particularly loudly.

Fleur got a nine from Madam Maxime, an eight each from Crouch, Professor Dumbledore, and Bagman, and a five from Karkaroff.

“Sexism!” shouted Lilian. “She did great!” She turned to the others in a huff. “She deserved more points than that! Karkaroff is sexist!”

The Common Welsh Green was led docilely out of the enclosure, to be replaced by the Chinese Fireball as a third whistle sounded.

“And here comes Mr. Krum!” cried Bagman.

“Let’s go Viktor!” shouted Hadrian, as Viktor slouched out of the ten and into the enclosure.

Viktor was much faster than the other two. Soon after he stepped into the enclosure, after spending a few minutes dodging fire, he raised his wand and fired a Conjunctivitis Curse at the dragon, hitting her square in the eyes, which were a dragon’s weakest spot. The Durmstrang delegation roared with cheers.

“Very daring!” Bagman yelled, and the Chinese Fireball emitted a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath.

The Chinese Fireball writhed around, thrashing and stomping and squashing half her eggs, making the crowd gasp and making Ursula eternally thankful that the eggs were just duplicates.

“That’s some nerve he’s showing — and — yes, he’s got the egg!” shouted Bagman, as Viktor grabbed the golden egg and dragonologists hurried to subdue the dragon. Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass.

Viktor got a seven from Madam Maxime, an eight from Crouch, a seven from Professor Dumbledore, an eight from Bagman, and, not surprisingly, a ten from Karkaroff.

“He lost points when the dragon crushed her eggs,” said Ursula. “I’m so glad that that’s not her real clutch.”

“Still, he did really well!” said Hadrian excitedly. “Viktor’s in the lead now, and he finished way faster than the others.”

“Finally,” said Bagman as a fourth whistle blew and the Hungarian Horntail entered the enclosure, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, Mr. Harry Potter!”

The crowd roared, boos and cheers blending together, as Harry stepped nervously into the enclosure and faced the Horntail, who was crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her yellow eyes upon him and thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. Harry raised his wand.

“What’s he doing?” said Vanessa. Harry raised his wand, but over the noise of the crowd it was impossible to hear what he said.

For a long minute, nothing happened.

“Look!” shouted Cassius, pointing back towards the school. The crowd swelled, cheering even louder, as Harry’s Firebolt hurtled around the edge of the woods, soared into the enclosure, and stopped dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. Bagman’s commentary was lost in the roars of the crowd.

Harry shot into the air, soaring high above the stadium. Then he dived, skimming the ground and pulling up just in time as the Horntail released a jet of fire.

“Great Scott, he can fly!” yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. “Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?”

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress. He plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky — he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder.

The crowd screamed and groaned, but Harry recovered. Even the Slytherins who had been particularly nasty towards him were on his side, now that he seemed to be succeeding.

“What’s he doing?” shouted Cassius, as Harry flew gradually back and forth, just out of range of the Horntail’s fire.

“He’s trying to make her fly!” shouted back Ursula.

Harry flew higher and higher, the Horntail’s head raising with him. She let out a roar of exasperation when he was too high to reach, then shot fire into the air, which he dodged. And then she reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, and Harry dived.

The crowd gasped as one as Harry sped towards the ground as fast as he could go toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs — he had taken his hands off his Firebolt — he had seized the golden egg —

And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, with the golden egg tucked under one arm as the crowd roared its approval.

“Look at that!” Bagman yelled. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!”

Soon Harry had been patched up by Madam Pomfrey and he returned to view his scores. He got an eight from Madam Maxime, a nine from Crouch, a nine from Professor Dumbledore, and from Bagman —

“A ten!” shouted Lilian.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand — four. The Hogwarts crowd booed.

“He shouldn’t even be a judge!” shouted Adrian.

“Harry’s tied with Viktor!” said Ursula.

“You both owe me ten sickles,” said Lilian, turning to Cassius and Adrian, who groaned and reached into their pockets. “Cassius, Harry scored more than thirty points, and Adrian, Harry isn’t last.”

“Why do you still make bets with her?” said Ursula, with Hadrian’s arm still draped over her shoulders. “She wins every time.”

“I have no idea,” said Adrian.

“I bet Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are going to celebrate tonight,” said Cassius, resignedly handing over Lilian’s winnings.

“You know,” said Ursula, with a sly glance at Vanessa, “now that the first task is over, it’s time for another  _ special event _ .”

“Oh yes,” said Vanessa with a giggle, catching on. “One that involves dress robes.”

“Bloody hell,” said Lilian, groaning. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

“Nope!” said Ursula cheerfully, and she and the others headed back up to the castle.


	65. The Patronus

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter, Ursula was glad of its fires and thick walls, and particularly grateful for the extra blankets that appeared in the Slytherin dorms. The Durmstrang ship and Beauxbatons carriage looked chilly, though Ursula supposed they were likely enchanted. Hagrid, she noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime’s horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes were distracting to the Care of Magical Creatures class. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed their wits about them.

“I’m not sure whether they hibernate or not,” Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. “Thought we’d jus’ try an’ see if they fancied a kip… we’ll jus’ settle ’em down in these boxes…”

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. They had thick gray armor now, as well as powerful, scuttling legs, fire-blasting ends, and stings or suckers. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

“We’ll jus’ lead ’em in here,” Hagrid said, “an’ put the lids on, and we’ll see what happens.”

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, “Don’ panic, now, don’ panic!” while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes.

The sixth years ended up going after the skrewts one at a time, stopping them with spells and leashes and whatever they could. There were more than a few burns and cuts between them as they tied up the last of the ten skrewts. Ursula took off her gloves, wiping her sweaty face.

“I’ll leave ‘em to the fourth years from now on,” said Hagrid. “I think it’s time I showed yeh something new.”

Ursula and the others couldn’t pretend that they weren’t relieved. Along with an increase in festive cheer, December also brought the announcement of the separate task that Ursula and her friends had gotten a great deal of amusement out of through gently teasing Lilian.

Professor Snape gathered the Slytherins in the common room before dinner, making it much more crowded than usual. The older students had staked their claim to the comfortable furniture, with Cassius quite happily combining intimidation and his prefect powers to make a couple of second years move, so Ursula and Lilian sat on either side of him on one of the couches, with Adrian in an armchair and Vanessa perched on the arm of the couch. The students murmured excitedly among themselves, as few of them knew what the special event was.

“Silence,” said Professor Snape, lip curled contemptuously, and all chatter ceased at once. “The Yule Ball is approaching. It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. It is also an opportunity to…  _ socialize _ … with our foreign guests.”

Lilian suppressed a giggle at Professor Snape’s obvious displeasure for the whole event.

“Only fourth years and above are allowed to attend,” continued Professor Snape. “Although you may invite a younger student if you wish.”

An outbreak of giggling cropped up among the younger students. Professor Snape glared them back into silence.

“Dress robes will be worn,” he said, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. However —”

He sent another fierce glare around the room.

“— standards of behavior, particularly those expected of Slytherin house, must be upheld,” finished Professor Snape. “That is all.”

The common room buzzed with noise as he swept out. Several people turned to each other at once to secure dates, but the much wider majority grouped off to giggle and talk.

“You wouldn’t go with me, would you?” said Cassius, turning to Ursula. “To save me the trouble of finding a partner?”

“No, and you know very well why,” said Ursula. “Don’t panic, you’ll find someone. You could even go alone if you want to.”

“I’m thrilled to have an excuse to dress up,” said Vanessa, whipping out a mirror from her pocket and checking her reflection.

“Please tell me this is the last of the secrets,” said Lilian. The rest of them laughed. “A ball sounds fun, but I have no idea how to dance.”

“I’m sure we could teach you,” said Ursula. “Perhaps at the next League of Laurels meeting, we can hold a refresher for anyone who doesn’t know or has gotten out of practice dancing.”

The Yule Ball became practically the only topic of conversation at Hogwarts. Nearly everyone fourth year and above had put down their name to stay for Christmas, something many of them, like Ursula, had never done before. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with the ball — or at least all the girls were. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night…

Ursula became the first of her friends to have a date, when Hadrian made a show of asking her out the next morning at breakfast.

“Someone’s got an admirer,” murmured Cassius in Ursula’s ear.

Hadrian was lounging in his seat at the Slytherin table, occasionally checking his watch, and looking very handsome indeed in a suit, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend, with a large bouquet of flowers tied with a red ribbon in his lap. His face lit up when he saw Ursula and he jumped to his feet.

“Hi,” she said, with a slight giggle.

They attracted quite a bit of attention as Hadrian bowed at the waist to her and said, quite loudly, “Ursula Black, will you do me the honor of being my date for the Yule Ball?”

“I’d be delighted,” said Ursula. Hadrian handed her the positively enormous bouquet and then kissed her, one of the few times they expressed affection in public.

“Well, I am disappointed,” said Fred, popping up behind Ursula. “Now who am I supposed to go with?”

“Hey!” said George, shoving him. “I was going to ask her!”

“I’m sure she’d rather go out with me —”

“Actually, I bet she’d rather go out with me —”

“— if you had to choose one of us, who would it be?” they both asked, turning to Ursula. When she didn’t answer, they turned back to each other and began to playfully argue over her once again.

“Sorry boys,” said Hadrian. “She’s already accounted for.”

As it turned out, Ursula already having a date to the Yule Ball did not deter other students from asking her, a number of people from seventh year Durmstrang student Gideon Avery, to Ravenclaw Lewis Carter, to the tiniest second year Gryffindor she had ever seen — she had to admire his bravery — to Lilian’s brother Miles. She was rather flattered but politely refused when her fellow sixth year, Hufflepuff Elizabeth Barrett, asked her.

She wasn’t the only one who had to entertain multiple offers; far from it. Vanessa was rather giggly after saying yes to a handsome Beauxbatons boy, but she was asked by several others, including Jacob Selwyn and Thaddeus Carrow, who went to Durmstrang.

Hadrian’s handsomeness proved to be a slight problem for Ursula. He was courteous, kind, and always wanted to be accommodating, which gave him rather an inability to refuse people for fear of disappointing them. On more than one occasion during December, Ursula caught him looking uncomfortable as a girl tried to flirt with him, and on more than one occasion she felt compelled to step in.

“Excuse me,” she said, with a slightly nasty grin, to the fifth year Ravenclaw who hadn’t taken any of Hadrian’s hints to back off and was practically clinging to him. “You must be confused, because that is  _ my _ boyfriend you’re holding onto there.”

“I’m… aware,” said the Ravenclaw, her smile dropping into an annoyed frown.

“Good,” said Ursula coldly. “Then I suggest you let go. We wouldn’t want any  _ misunderstandings _ , now would we?”

“No,” said the Ravenclaw sullenly. She let go of Hadrian and stalked off.

“You know, for someone who looks the way you do, you’re remarkably bad at confrontations,” remarked Ursula.

“Thank goodness I have you, then,” teased Hadrian.

Ursula had a date, and Vanessa had a date, and soon, so did Gemma and Adrian. Gemma’s date was Hadrian’s friend Vincent, who had asked her one morning after bemoaning how hard it was to find someone.

“Why do girls have to travel in packs?” he complained. “If I don’t hurry up, there’ll be none left!”

“Gemma doesn’t have a date yet,” said Cassius innocently. Vincent looked at her in surprise.

“No way!” he said. “Would you go with me?”

“Alright, then,” said Gemma, smiling at him before turning her attention back to her book, a slight blush tinging her cheeks.

Adrian didn’t have to go to the trouble of asking a girl; he arrived late to the League of Laurels meeting, looking slightly bemused and rather pleased.

“Guinevere Derrick just asked me to the ball,” he said. Guinevere, Peregrine’s younger sister, was a rather bold fifth year Slytherin.

“And?” demanded Vanessa excitedly. “What did you say?”

“Well, yes,” said Adrian. “I don’t have a date, and she’s nice, so I said yes.”

“Good for you,” said Ursula. She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Right, so at the end of this meeting, we’re going to practice dancing in preparation for the Yule Ball, for anyone who wants to stay. And next week, for our last meeting before Christmas, we’re going to do Patronuses.”

Everyone got to work practicing, on each other or the dummies. When the meeting was near the end, everyone who knew how to waltz already or didn’t need to practice left, leaving a sizable group of students behind to practice. Ursula tapped the gramophone with her wand, and waltz music began to play.

“So, when waltzing, one person leads and the other person follows,” said Ursula. “Usually the man leads and the woman follows. Cassius, if you’ll assist me.”

“Sure thing,” said Cassius, standing up to join her.

“The basic step for a waltz is the box step,” said Ursula. “A box step can be divided into two parts — a forward half box and a backward half box. A half box lets you move easier across the dance floor. Each half has three steps — a step forward or backward, depending on if you’re the leader or not, a step to the side, and a step to close the feet together. That might have been a bit confusing, so Cassius and I will demonstrate.”

They did a slow box step in time with the music, then demonstrated both half boxes a few times.

“Right, so if everyone will find a partner,” said Ursula, “then we’ll try a box step all together.”

The Slytherins found partners, and Ursula found it necessary to explain where their hands should be placed. Then she and Cassius walked around, helping people step forward or back or to the side. Once everyone had at least a mediocre grip on how to do a box step, they practiced half boxes, and then sped up the steps so it was the speed it should be to fit with the music.

“Well done everyone,” said Ursula. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“Can we practice again next time?” asked fifth year Edmund Urquhart eagerly.

“Sure,” said Ursula.

The dungeon emptied and, looking around as they were preparing to leave, Ursula and her friends saw Lilian still standing with Terence Higgs, a tall, stringy seventh year with short blond hair and a nervous disposition. Terence said something, and Lilian blushed, looked down, and nodded, saying something in reply that made Terence blush as well.

“What?” said Lilian, seeing her friends’ raised eyebrows as she walked over to them.

“Did he just ask you to the ball?” said Ursula. Lilian blushed harder.

“Er — yeah,” she said. Vanessa squealed in delight.

Now that Lilian had a date, Cassius was the only one left without a partner. He seemed strangely obstinate about finding one, even as he complained about being alone.

“Destined to be a bachelor, I suppose…” he said, with a long suffering sigh, throwing himself dramatically onto a couch. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“I was  _ there _ when you turned down that fourth year,” said Ursula. “And I know for a fact that Daria West asked you to go with her last week and you said no. I mean honestly, just go alone.”

“Maybe I will,” said Cassius. He sat up. “Actually, I have an idea.”

It was after Arithmancy when Cassius met back up with Ursula and said, “I’m going with Elizabeth Barrett.”

“I see,” said Ursula, one eyebrow quirking up. “Should I read into this at all? Your reluctance to find a partner?”

“I’m… not sure,” said Cassius slowly. “I… need some time to figure…  _ things _ … out. And Liz needed a partner, so…”

“I get it,” said Ursula. “Take your time, Cass.”

“Thanks,” said Cassius. “You’re my best friend.”

“Aww,” said Ursula. “I love you too.”

“Can I ask you for a favor?” asked Cassius. “It’s not that important or anything, but it is kind of a big deal.”

“I’m not writing your Transfiguration essay for you,” said Ursula. “Let’s chat.”

~~~

“Thanks again,” said Cassius. “That was really helpful.”

“You were so dramatic,” said Ursula. “But really, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Still, it means a lot to me. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ursula. “Look at the time; people should be here for the meeting soon.”

Just as she said it, the doors to the dungeon opened, and in came her friends and a number of the other Slytherins for the League of Laurels meeting.

“What’re you two doing in here early?” asked Lilian.

“I was helping Cassius with his Astronomy homework,” said Ursula. “Well, I fixed his telescope. He had no idea how.”

“I’m tired enough without getting up for Astronomy,” said Adrian. “Honestly, I don’t miss it at all.”

“We’re doing Patronuses, right?” said Vanessa excitedly. Ursula nodded and stood up, as the majority of the members had arrived.

“Today we will begin work on the Patronus Charm,” said Ursula. “Now, this charm is beyond NEWT level, so don’t feel bad if you can’t do it. Particularly y’all who are below fifth year — you can try if you want to, but I’ve also asked Flora Campbell to show you a range of jinxes.”

Flora, a seventh year, waved. A few of the younger students, frightened at the prospect of even attempting such difficult magic, followed her to the opposite end of the room right away. As Ursula began to explain the complexity of the Patronus Charm, several more followed.

“The Patronus Charm is a kind of magical guardian that can be used to protect you from Dark creatures such as Dementors, and even to send messages, although that is even more difficult than the Patronus itself,” said Ursula. “There are two kinds — corporeal and incorporeal. Just casting an incorporeal Patronus, which will look rather like a blob of silver mist, is an achievement. A corporeal, or fully-fledged, Patronus will take the shape of a creature that reflects the caster’s personality. Unlike an Animagus, a Patronus can change if the caster undergoes a traumatic or serious emotional shift.”

Ursula stared around the room. Fires roared to heat the frigid dungeon, and the few dozen Slytherins listened attentively.

“Now, in order to cast a Patronus, you have to think of the absolute happiest memory you have,” said Ursula. “It has to be very strong. In fact, that’s why many witches and wizards fail to cast a Patronus; the memory they choose isn’t strong enough. Once you have a strong memory in mind, begin to wave your wand in circles like this, as you say the incantation:  _ Expecto Patronum _ . Of course, facing a Dementor is not nearly the same as performing the Patronus Charm in a room such as this, but it’s important to practice should you ever find yourself in need.”

She set them to work practicing; indeed, it was the most complex magic any of them had ever attempted. However, with encouragement, time, and more than a few swear words, silvery mist soon filled the room, occasionally taking on a shape.

For Ursula, the memory she chose was the first time she had managed to transform into her Animagus. She picked it because the sense of pride and happiness she had felt was exactly what she needed now.

After a few tries, a large silvery blob hung in the air for a bit, but it lacked any sort of definition. Ursula buckled down on the memory, remembering every detail and every ounce of emotion.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ !”

A great silvery shape burst from her wand, resolving itself into a great silvery bear, with white markings identical to the distinguishing features of her black bear Animagus. Ursula laughed gleefully as the bear lolloped around her, nudging her hands and snorting silver wisps of light. Then the bear cantered over to distract Cassius, before returning to Ursula and eventually fading into nothing.

“I’ve got it! I think I’ve got it!” said Lilian. Ursula turned, and saw the unmistakable shape of a crow swooping across the ceiling.

“Well done!” said Ursula.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” said Lilian, casting another crow to admire it.

“Yes. And useful, too,” quipped Ursula.

Gemma succeeded next, and knelt rather stoically to look her beaver Patronus critically in the eye. A large white shape shot out of Cassius’s wand, but he let it go before any of them could have a proper look.

“What was it?” asked Ursula. “Cassius, what was it?”

“Don’t ask,” he grumbled.

“Come on, you have to tell us,” said Lilian. “Or, better yet,  _ show _ us.”

“Fine,” said Cassius, sounding irritated. “ _ Expecto Patronum _ .”

A second later, his friends roared with laughter as a magnificent silver lion stood proudly in the middle of the room. It opened its jaws in a silent roar as its caster scowled.

“A Gryffindor at heart, are we?” teased Ursula. Cassius only scowled deeper.

“To think,” he said, and the lion vanished, “that my bitter opposition to Gryffindor would be undermined by my own bloody Patronus!”

“And your personality,” reminded Lilian.

“Damn,” said Cassius.

“Hey, at least you managed to cast one,” said Adrian, who was getting increasingly frustrated every time someone else managed it.

“Ha!” said Vanessa in victory, as her Patronus took the shape of a Russian blue cat, who stretched elegantly and rubbed Vanessa’s ankles.

“Bloody hell!” said Adrian. Ursula walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve almost got it,” she said, as silvery wisps of light shot out from his wand. “You just need to focus on your happiest memory. Remember every detail as clearly as you can…”

Ursula was suddenly transported to a fine spring day.

_ A woman’s voice laughed, clear and ringing, above her head. She felt the brush of soft grass beneath her. _

_ “Come on Ursa! That’s it, my darling dearest!” _

_ Hands swooped into view, setting a very young Ursula back on her feet. A butterfly fluttered past, and she reached out a chubby hand, stumbling a step, and then another, a baby’s giggle floating through the pleasant air. _

Ursula barely registered as Adrian shouted in success, and a basset hound nipped at his heels for a brief second.

_ “Just a few more steps!” _

_ A woman knelt, coming into view, a woman with large grey eyes, a bright, even smile, and long, curly black hair that she tucked behind one ear, hair that cascaded over her shoulders and that Ursula loved to tug gently. _

_ “Expecto Patronum!” _

_ The silvery shape bounded past Ursula, encouraging her little legs to move faster as she giggled and followed it, through the soft, dewy grass and towards the smiling woman, whose arms were extended, waiting to catch her. _

_ “Well done, Ursa! Come to Mum!” _

_ Ursula couldn’t quite see what animal the Patronus was, for she made it the last few steps and was at once swept into her mother’s arms. _

_ “My darling dearest,” cooed her mother. “I’m so proud of you.” _


	66. The Yule Ball

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Ursula didn’t believe half of them — for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters, a popular musical group.

Some teachers, even in their NEWT classes, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; Professor Flitwick allowed them to play games in his lesson on Tuesday. Fred and George started up a large round of Exploding Snap that had everyone excited. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions — as Binns hadn’t let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn’t going to put him off. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Professor Snape, of course, would rather poison the lot of them then let them play games. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that they would be brewing the Draught of Living Death during the lasty lesson of term.

Of course, where everyone’s mind was occupied was with the upcoming Yule Ball, so much so that there was an added Hogsmeade visit. Ursula, Lilian, Gemma, and Vanessa giggled as they strolled down High Street, a combination of excitement and nerves.

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Ursula and the other prefects made sure that they were the most stunning they had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them.

It was quite something to hear “O Come, All Ye Faithful” sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armor, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.

Despite the very heavy load of homework that the sixth years had been given — “Just because we’re NEWT students doesn’t mean we have to act like we’re preparing for them every week,” said Cassius — they were in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying themselves as fully as possible along with everyone else.

Fred and George had begun handing out sweets of their own design called Canary Creams. Ursula was instantly suspicious when they gave her one, and handed it to Cassius, causing him to turn into a large yellow canary in the middle of Charms. Indeed, such was the success of the Canary Creams that people kept bursting into feather all over the place. Fred confided to Ursula that he and George had begun working on developing something else.

“Would you ever open a shop?” asked Ursula, as she corrected her Transfiguration notes.

“Well, yeah, we want to,” said Fred, looking surprised. “How’d you know?”

Ursula shrugged.

“Just a lucky guess, I suppose,” she said. “You and George have been developing so much over the years that I figured you had a goal in mind.”

“We’re going to call it Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes,” confided Fred, lowering his voice as Professor McGonagall swept past. “We have the order forms and everything — only trouble is, we bet all our savings at the World Cup, and Bagman paid us in leprechaun gold.”

“He’s deep in debt with the goblins,” said Ursula, sighing.

“Well, he owes us,” said Fred. “We’ve been trying to write him for weeks, but he won’t pay. Now he’s turned nasty, telling us that we’re too young to gamble. He avoided us during the First Task.”

“He’s probably broke,” said Ursula. “You could always threaten to tell the Ministry about his gambling, though I can’t see how they don’t already know.”

“We don’t want to use blackmail,” said Fred. “We’re afraid it would make him even less likely to pay.”

“How much does he owe you?” said Ursula.

“We gave him thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts, and a joke wand for five Galleons,” said Fred.

Ursula, as it happened, was not above blackmail. She penned a threatening — but also anonymous — letter, hinting only that she had contacts in the Ministry with the ear of the Minister himself. That was, of course, her uncle, but she was sure to mention both his and Montgomery Rowle’s name. To compromise, as she knew Bagman was, to put it politely, strapped for cash, she offered not to tell if he could procur the sum Fred and George had originally given him, although she was careful not to mention their names.

_ Mr. Bagman, _

_ I hope this letter finds you in possession of more sense than you have shown thus far. You have cheated many out of what they are owed, and furthermore have lied repeatedly. However I am concerned with only one instance of your thievery. It is in your interest to comply with my demands, difficult as it may be more you, because rest assured that it would prove far more difficult for you to deal with the effects of refusing. _

_ Due to your addiction to gambling, I am aware that you find yourself in enormous debts — to goblins and wizards alike. Thus far, the Ministry of Magic has no knowledge of your habits, but should you refuse once more to pay, the Minister himself will know. I have contacts within the Ministry who have the Minister’s ear. Surely you are acquainted with Lucius Malfoy and Montgomery Rowle — but know that should you find their influence not sufficient, I have further contacts. Therefore, I propose a deal in both of our interests. _

_ You will send me the exact payment of thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts. In return, I will not inform the Ministry of your debts. I am being more than fair by requesting only the amount you were paid for this particular gamble, as you owe more than double that sum. This way, my side does not lose money and yours does not lose everything. _

_ Understand that if any of the money is counterfeit, fake, or otherwise faulty, your secret will be revealed to the Ministry  _ and _ the Daily Prophet. You have until the new year to respond, or else I will assume you have refused my offer, and I will inform the Ministry. Think carefully, Mr. Bagman, of the consequences of refusal. _

_ I expect a response. _

_ — A consequence of your actions. _

Ursula picked one of the school owls, a large, vulture-like bird with a jagged beak who pecked the recipient incessantly until he received a treat, and sent Bagman the letter. She thought the frightening owl set the tone for the message he carried.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid’s cabin, while the Durmstrang ship’s portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and no one could find anything to complain about.

To Ursula’s satisfaction, Bagman responded to her later hastily, about a week and a half after she sent it. In fact, it was Christmas Eve when the owl returning, bearing a small, heavy box with no accompanying letter. She fed him two pieces of bacon and he took off, then opened the box. To be honest, she was surprised that Bagman had gotten the money.

On top of the neatly stacked coins sat a small piece of parchment.

_ It’s all there, I swear. _

Ursula grinned in satisfaction.

“What’s that?” asked Cassius, looking over as Ursula shut the box.

“It’s a debt paid,” said Ursula.

“How mysterious,” said Cassius, before going back to his mince pies.

Bagman’s payment was not the only thing Ursula received on Christmas Eve. Aside from a number of packages from her family, a tawny owl delivered a thick packet of papers that Ursula scanned eagerly.

A week previously, an ad had appeared in the Daily Prophet for a building in Diagon Alley. Mr. Harrington, the owner of the antique store below Ursula’s flat, had indeed decided to sell. The ad was short and direct, rather like Mr. Harrington’s gruff personality.

**FOR SALE: Number 93, Diagon Alley**

Includes storefront and flat in the back.

Second flat above the store not included.

Formerly an antique store. Sturdy building.

_ Owl Bartholomew Harrington if interested. _

Ursula proceeded to write her financial advisors, asking them to buy the building from Mr. Harrington at a reasonable price. Now, a week later, the tawny owl had delivered the sale documents for Ursula to sign to authorize the purchase.

After signing the packet of papers, Ursula mailed them back to her financial advisors. Then she finished wrapping presents for her friends, before wrapping the box of coins for the Weasley twins and tying a red ribbon around it. She gave it to a house elf with instructions to deliver it to the Gryffindor dorms and an accompanying note that read:

_ Sorry, I couldn’t get the trick wand back. _

_ Merry Christmas, _

_ Ursula Black _

Christmas morning, Ursula quite happily opened her gifts in bed, letting Betelgeuse delight himself by playing in the wrapping paper and empty boxes. Breakfast was late that morning, with extra hot chocolate and cookies weighing down the tables. Lunch was, if anything, more delicious. It was magnificent, and included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage’s Wizarding Crackers.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. While the Weasleys started a large snowball fight nearby, Ursula, Lilian, and Blossom continued their tradition of skating on the Black Lake. Ursula had convinced Hadrian to buy a pair of skates, and now she was attempting to teach him how. As it turned out, he was almost as bad as Lilian.

Ursula shrieked as Hadrian dragged her down with him once again. He had so little balance he had to hold desparately onto her hand, and when he fell, which was frequently, she fell too.

“Hadrian!” she said, laughing as she stood up on the slick ice.

“I’m sorry!” said Hadrian. He tried to stand, then slipped, landing hard on his back. “I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Ursula laughed and offered him a hand, helping him up with great difficulty as he was so much taller than she was.

“I don’t know how you do this,” said Hadrian, holding his arms out for balance as he tentatively skated forward.

“With practice, darling,” said Ursula.

She took his arm and propelled them both forward. Hadrian wobbled but remained upright. They spent several frigid but fun hours skating on the ice, until about five o’clock.

“Come on, that’s it,” said Ursula, skating backwards as she coaxed Hadrian forward.

“I think I’ve got it!” said Hadrian. “I —”

And then he tripped and slammed into Ursula, who slid back and fell, with a great crack, through the ice and into the Black Lake.

“Ursula!” shouted Hadrian.

Before he could do anything, Ursula pulled herself out of the icy water in her Animagus form. Hadrian looked very relieved, and as revenge Ursula shook out her thick fur, splattering him with icy water.

“I think that’s enough,” said Ursula, shivering as she transformed back into a human.

“I’m so sorry,” said Hadrian, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“It’s fine. No harm, no foul,” said Ursula, with a grin to show she meant it. “It’s about time to get ready for the ball anyway.”

“What, you need three hours?” said Hadrian, as Blossom and Lilian followed them off the ice and back to the castle, past where the Weasleys were still engaged in a fierce snowball fight. Fred’s hat was coated in snow, the effects of a recent hit to the face.

“I’ll see you in the entrance hall!” called Ursula over her shoulder.

Ursula immediately went down to her dorm and took a long, hot shower. Her hair had actually begun to freeze after she emerged from the water, and she spent a long while brushing her hair until it was dry and smooth and glossy.

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so Ursula and the other girls had plenty of time to get ready. The boys, too, although most of them didn’t start until less than an hour beforehand.

Ursula’s  [ dress ](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/H2e8824b4597f41e4adb2a439630f0e5dv.jpg_q50.jpg) was magnificent. The bodice was fitted, lined with green and gold beads. It had a sweetheart neckline with thin straps tied into bows, with strips of emerald green tulle and the same beaded fabric cascading over her shoulders. The beaded fabric ended in strips dripping over many layers of emerald green tulle. The skirt swished when she walked and flared when she twirled, and was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn.

With it, Ursula kept her jewelry simple. She wore her mother’s pearls and dangling gold earrings set with emeralds. Rather than a bracelet, she wore a gold armband designed to look like a dragon curled around her arm that matched the clips in her hair. She wore an emerald ring on her finger and dark green satin high heels.

Her hair was the most complicated style she had ever done, mostly because of the clips she had incorporated into it. The sides of her hair were swept back into a half updo at the back of her head, held with a delicate gold hair clip that looked like a dragon with its wings out and its tail curled. Shorter curls framed her face, and the rest of her hair cascaded in curly waves down her back. She had applied liberal amounts of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion to tame her curls. In addition to the dragon, she had short strands of pearls and gold hairclips studded with emeralds swooping throughout her hair.

“You sure you’re not punishing all those poor boys you turned down for the ball?” asked Lilian, making Ursula turn away from the mirror. “You look spectacular.”

“Thankfully your brother and the other poor little second year won’t see me,” said Ursula, sliding a final pin into her hair.

“Are you trying to make everyone else jealous?” said Lilian.

“Would you blame me if I did?”

Lilian laughed.

“I think all eyes will be on you,” she said. Ursula shook her head.

“You look rather magnificent yourself,” she said, gesturing to Lilian’s tiered yellow  [ dress ](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB19iIwX3mH3KVjSZKzq6z2OXXal/Amazing-Summer-V-Neck-Floral-Evening-Dress-Yellow-Arabic-Party-Gowns-Long-Formal-Dress-Robe-De.jpg_q50.jpg) , which had been embroidered with a rainbow of pastel flowers.

“Thanks,” said Lilian, blushing. “My gran embroidered it herself.”

“My, don’t you two look fabulous!” said Vanessa, bustling into the room. Her long, straight blond hair was styled into a complicated bun, and she was just putting her earrings on.

“Bloody hell Vanessa,” said Lilian with a snort. “You look fantastic.”

“Really? Thank you!” said Vanessa, twirling a little in her light blue  [ dress ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2f/43/92/2f4392d4c3683f1fac4002991e200b85.jpg) , which was covered in white lace and was practically a ball gown. “It took Mother and I forever to find it.”

“Is everyone ready?” said Gemma, emerging from the bathroom. Her  [ dress ](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ca/30/91/ca309129aeaf3eec57ef6815ac9152a3.jpg) was tea length, meaning it ended just above her ankles, with a modest cut and a pretty pink color.

“Just about!” said Lilian, putting on her shoes. “Don’t forget, I want to take pictures first.”

“Hey ladies,” said Cassius, leaning in the doorway. He wore a tuxedo, complete with a stiff collar and black tie. “Looking good.”

“Make yourself useful and grab that camera,” said Lilian, pointing to the one on Ursula’s desk, which she had brought in. After he took a photo of them, and then Adrian walked in and they all took a photo together, they headed out to meet up with their dates.

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. Lilian blushed, giggled, and went off with Terence, who had bowed and offered her his arm, then turned beet red when she accepted. Guinevere bounded over to Adrian and they went upstairs as well. The other four, who didn’t have dates within their own house, walked up to the entrance hall.

The entrance hall was packed with students too, all milling around waiting for eight o’clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. A loud wolf whistle split the crowd, and Cassius headed over to the Hufflepuff door, where Elizabeth Barrett waited for him in a white  [ tuxedo ](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1134/5488/products/0747-1-Ivory-Long-Shawl-_UPCLOSE_480x.jpg?v=1580172738) , with a black silk blouse underneath and a white bow tie.

Vanessa found her Beauxbatons boy, whose dark blue dress robes perfectly complimented her dress. The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Viktor was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes who — Ursula grinned — she recognized as Hermione Granger.

Vincent split off from the group and found Gemma, leaving Hadrian to make the proper spectacle. With long strides, he made his wave through the crowd, stopping well short of Ursula and bowing. He looked positively dapper in his dress robes, which were white tie, the highest level of formality.

“You look positively radiant,” he said, kissing the knuckles of her right hand. The two of them made quite the pretty picture. “No one and nothing so beautiful has ever graced my sight.”

“You flatter me,” said Ursula. “You yourself are surely the most handsome man I have ever danced with, and possible the most attractive one I know.”

“Well I shall take that in good faith,” said Hadrian. “Now, would you do me the honor of accompanying me into the Great Hall?”

“It would be my utmost pleasure,” said Ursula. Hadrian offered her his arm and she took it, then they swanned passed the rest of the crowd to enter the Great Hall.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Ursula and Hadrian sat with the rest of their friends, all but Adrian and Guinevere, who were seated with her friends. The last two seats were occupied by Emil and Ingrid.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall led the champions into the Great Hall, to the applause of everyone else. The walked up to where the judges were sitting at a large round table at the top of the Hall. The music began, and the champions began to dance.

Fleur Delacour and her date — Ursula’s fellow sixth year Roger Davies — danced quite well together. So did Cedric and Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker. Viktor and Hermione danced elegantly together, and though Harry Potter and the girl he was with did dance nicely, it was obvious that she was steering and he was rather distracted. Still, she was quite a fine dancer.

When the dance was over, the champions and their partners sat at the top table with the judges. Ursula saw Ludo Bagman among them, and notice that he seemed to have recovered from the instance of blackmail.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. For a moment, there was a lot of confusion in the Hall, until Professor Dumbledore looked down at his plate and loudly announced, “Pork chops!”

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, everyone else did the same. A large, delectable slice of ham appeared on Ursula’s plate. They all ordered rolls and side dishes and whatever else they wanted, as sparkling cider filled their goblets.

When all the food had been consumed, Professor Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and the lanterns on all the tables had gone out, save for the one where the champions were sitting.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune, and the champions headed out onto the brightly lit dance floor once again. Harry’s partner steered him once again, and soon Professor Dumbledore and Madam Maxime joined the champions. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Professor Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

The Weird Sisters stopped playing, and applause filled the hall once more. Hadrian stood and offered his hand to Ursula, and they were among the first to join the dance floor as the Weird Sisters struck up a much faster tune. They whirled into the fastest foxtrot Ursula had ever done. Ursula’s skirts flared beautifully as Hadrian twirled her at an almost dangerously high speed. Had they not had so much practice, they might have tripped over their own feet. Nearby, Fred and Alicia were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury.

The Weird Sisters alternated between two fast songs and a slow one, and Ursula and Hadrian didn’t sit down once. At a Christmas ball normally, two dances over the course of the whole evening with the same person would be quite enough, but here they had dates.

It was great fun, dancing to the music and laughing with one another. Ursula also danced with Cassius, who had been dancing rather wildly with Elizabeth, and Adrian and Cedric, as well as a few of Hadrian’s Durmstrang friends. She saw Blossom, looking lovely in a floaty, sparkly purple  [ dress ](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0980/4470/products/ShinyLilacLongPromDresses_PurpleLongFormalEveningGraduationDresses_1024x1024.jpg?v=1584950912) , dancing with Hufflepuff Jasper Clarke.

Ursula’s cheeks were rosy and her feet sore when Hadrian suggested they pause and get drinks. She breathlessly agreed, but he had scarcely gone to get butterbeer when someone else showed up to ask Ursula to dance.

“May I have this dance?” said Fred, holding his hand out to Ursula.

“Sure,” said Ursula.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow song, and Ursula and Fred revolved slowly on the spot.

“You know, I have no idea how to dance like this,” said Fred, apologizing after he nearly stepped on Ursula’s foot.

“It’s easy. I can teach you,” said Ursula. “Step forward with your left foot — that’s it — and now step to the right with your right foot… now step together.”

She coaxed Fred through a simple box stop, and it took a couple of tries before he could do it. They were standing on the edge of the dance floor near the wall.

“I did it!” said Fred, looking up in surprise. Ursula laughed.

“Yes, you did,” she said. “Congratulations, Weasley, now you know how to dance.”

“Oh, I already knew how to dance,” said Fred teasingly. “I just didn’t know how to do  _ this _ .”

“Well now you do,” said Ursula.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” asked Fred. “Rowle?”

Ursula looked around. Hadrian had clearly gotten sidetracked. She spotted him talking to Cassius, whose partner Elizabeth had long since disappeared outside with Ingrid.

“He’s not my —” Ursula stopped herself quickly. “He’s over by the drinks table.”

“Hey look!” shouted George, as he whirled past with Angelina Johnson. The Weird Sisters had switched to a much faster song. George pointed above Fred and Ursula. “Mistletoe!”

They both looked up, but for a moment, neither of them moved.

“Oh,” said Ursula, her cheeks turning pink.

“Er,” said Fred awkwardly.

Ursula didn’t know if it was the excitement of the evening, the thrill of the moment, or just the festivities, but… she was suddenly struck by how handsome Fred looked. They stared at each other, stuck momentarily underneath the mistletoe, and then —

“Ursula!”

Ursula took two steps back, looking down then away from Fred as Hadrian arrived with two butterbeers in his hands.

“Here you go,” said Hadrian happily.

“Thanks,” said Ursula. When she looked around again, Fred had disappeared into the crowd. “Shall we step outside for a bit?”

“Sure,” said Hadrian.

The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large stone statues. Ursula could hear the soft bubbling and splashing of a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. Ursula and Hadrian set off down one of the winding paths through the rosebushes until they found an empty bench away from everyone else.

“So,” said Hadrian, taking a sip of his butterbeer. “Weasley, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped Ursula, taking a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” said Hadrian, his eyes twinkling.

“What about you and Cassius then?” challenged Ursula.

“As a wise woman once said, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” responded Hadrian.

When they had finished their drinks, they returned inside and rejoined the dancing. Ursula was exhausted by the time the ball finally closed at midnight, although she could have happily danced for longer. When the Weird Sisters finished playing, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the entrance hall.

“Goodnight, my dear,” said Hadrian, bowing to Ursula before leaving to go back to the Durmstrang ship.

“Wasn’t that simply marvelous?” exclaimed Vanessa, as the Slytherins headed down to their dorms. She twirled a little in her dress, still caught up with the exuberance of the evening.

“It was fantastic!” agreed Lilian.

It took Ursula quite a while to undo everything she had done for the ball, though not nearly as long as it took her to get ready. Once she had every last clip out of her hair, she climbed gratefully into bed. Gemma was still humming one of the Weird Sisters’ songs, but Ursula was so tired that it wouldn’t have mattered if she sang.

Ursula went to bed that night smiling to herself, and dreamt of warm brown eyes.


	67. The Second Task

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. Ursula spent most of the day lounging in the Slytherin common room, penning letters in reply as follow-ups to Christmas gifts. Now that the Yule Ball was over, it was time now to think of the homework she and the others had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over.

Soon the first day of the new term arrived, and Ursula set off to lessons, weighed down with books, parchment, and quills as usual. The weight of ten NEWT classes was rather heavy on her shoulders, even if the exams themselves were still a year and a half away.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn’t see out of them in Herbology. Even Ursula was apprehensive about having Care of Magical Creatures in this weather. When she arrived at Hagrid’s cabin for her first class of the new term, however, she found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

“All here?” she said, as Rue and the Weasley twins came to a halt beside Ursula. “Excellent.”

“Er — excuse me ma’am, who are you?” asked Ursula.

“My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,” she said briskly. “I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

“Where is Hagrid?” said Ursula.

“He is indisposed for the moment,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank, although not unkindly.

“Oh,” said Ursula softly. She looked at Hagrid’s cabin, where all the curtains were closed.

“Follow me, please, this way,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. The four sixth years followed her past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head. Professor Grubbly-Plank directed Ursula and Rue to approach with care.

“Beautiful,” murmured Ursula, as the unicorn nuzzled her hand. Rue nodded slightly in agreement, mesmerized by the creature before them. Ursula sighed, looking back again towards Hagrid’s hut as Professor Grubbly-Plank began to talk about unicorns. “I wonder what’s the matter with him.”

“Hmm, don’t know, but I do know that this is way better than our usual class,” Rue spoke dismissively, her focus completely on the unicorn. Ursula shot her a sour look.

“Hagrid is a fine teacher,” she said, her voice quiet, turning back to the unicorn.

“If stumbling over your words every other sentence and not actually knowing the properties of what you’re teaching about, makes a fine teacher then I completely agree.”

“Just because you didn’t like the skrewts,” said Ursula, “does not make Hagrid a bad teacher! He knows about all sorts of magical creatures  _ and _ he cares about them.”

“Just caring about something doesn’t suddenly give him the skills to be a proper teacher,” said Rue.

“No, but thankfully our OWL scores prove he does,” snapped Ursula. “I would rather have a teacher stumble over his words than not care about his subject.”

“I would rather a teacher who could do both, like —” Rue paused rather mockingly to think “— I don’t know, maybe Professor Grubbly-Plank. Do you think she would stay if we asked?”

“The woman has been here for ten minutes,” said Ursula. “Do you honestly think Hagrid knows nothing about unicorns? Besides, she already said she was  _ temporary _ , and I for one will be glad when Hagrid returns.”

“I’m sure he knows plenty, my point is that he’s so incompetent at any sort of social skills it takes him an hour to get to the point,” said Rue. Their conversation was getting rather heated now.

“If you’re so determined to judge someone on the way they speak rather than what they say, then I’m surprised any conversation meets your standards,” said Ursula.

“I don’t care that he’s an awkward person,” snapped Rue. “Merlin knows I’m not the most articulate. I care that I’m not getting the education I come here for.”

“Then you’re a hypocrite for criticizing something you yourself admit to struggling with,” said Ursula coldly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my family couldn’t afford to have it trained out of me,” said Rue.

“Well, I won’t hold it against you,” said Ursula acidly.

“Hey, come over and give us a hand choosing food!” called Fred, his voice effectively shattering the icy tension that had accumulated between the two girls.

Ursula almost stood up, but then —

“Yeah Rue, come on!” added George.

Rue narrowed her eyes at Ursula for one last nonverbal jab before adopting a nauseatingly fake smile and striding over to the twins, who stood at a picnic table filled with food for the unicorns. Ursula did not deign a response, except for one raised eyebrow. She turned back to the unicorn and rubbed her soft ears, eliciting a nicker from her.

Ursula and Rue did not speak or even look at each other for the remainder of class, and steered well clear of one another in all of their subsequent classes together. Starting off the new year with a less than polite conversation with a less than amiable acquaintance did not bode well, and by lunch Ursula’s mood had only worsened.

She hadn’t finished her Daily Prophet at breakfast, because she had woken up late, so she decided to finish reading it at lunch. Had she read it earlier, she might have known why Hagrid was not in class.

**_DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE_ **

_ Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hog- _

_ warts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never _

_ been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, _

_ writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In _

_ September of this year, he hired Alastor “Mad-Eye” _

_ Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to _

_ teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision _

_ that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry _

_ of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of at- _

_ tacking anybody who makes a sudden movement _

_ in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks _

_ responsible and kindly when set beside the part- _

_ human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of _

_ Magical Creatures. _

_ Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled _

_ from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the _

_ position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a _

_ job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, _

_ however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over _

_ the headmaster to secure the additional post of _

_ Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads _

_ of many better-qualified candidates. _

_ An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, _

_ Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to _

_ terrify the students in his care with a succession of _

_ horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind _

_ eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a _

_ series of lessons that many admit to being “very _

_ frightening.” _

_ “I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend _

_ Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm,” _

_ says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. “We all _

_ hate Hagrid, but we’re just too scared to say _

_ anything.” _

_ Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign _

_ of intimidation, however. In conversation with a _

Daily Prophet _ reporter last month, he admitted _

_ breeding creatures he has dubbed “Blast-Ended _

_ Skrewts,” highly dangerous crosses between manti- _

_ cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of _

_ magical creature is, of course, an activity usually _

_ closely observed by the Department for the Regu- _

_ lation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, _

_ however, considers himself to be above such petty _

_ restrictions. _

_ “I was just having some fun,” he says, before hastily _

_ changing the subject. _

_ As if this were not enough, the  _ Daily Prophet _ has _

_ now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not — as _

_ he has always pretended — a pure-blood wizard. _

_ He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, _

_ we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the _

_ giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are cur- _

_ rently unknown. _

_ Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought _

_ themselves to the point of extinction by warring _

_ amongst themselves during the last century. The _

_ handful that remained joined the ranks of He- _

_ Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible _

_ for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his _

_ reign of terror. _

_ While many of the giants who served He-Who- _

_ Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors work- _

_ ing against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not _

_ among them. It is possible she escaped to one of _

_ the giant communities still existing in foreign _

_ mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Mag- _

_ ical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Frid- _

_ wulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal _

_ nature. _

_ In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have _

_ developed a close friendship with the boy who _

_ brought around You-Know-Who’s fall from _

_ power — thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, _

_ like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into _

_ hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the un- _

_ pleasant truth about his large friend — but Albus _

_ Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry _

_ Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned _

_ about the dangers of associating with part-giants. _

“Rough day?” asked Cassius, as Ursula sighed and put her head in her hands. He hadn’t had any classes today, while she had Care of Magical Creatures and double Herbology — in fact, his only classes were Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts in fifth and sixth period respectively.

“It just got worse,” said Ursula. She handed him the article, then stood up and stalked down the table until she reached Draco. “I need to talk to you.”

“Sure,” said Draco easily.

He got up and followed her out into the entrance hall. Ursula’s arms were crossed and her face set into a cold frown as she faced him.

“Why,” she said, trying to maintain her composure, “did you give Rita Skeeter an interview? Why did you claim Hagrid’s class caused numerous injuries? Why did you claim ‘we all hate Hagrid’?”

Draco snorted.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, eyes glinting. “He’s dangerous. He was an oaf before, and now he’s a half-giant. He’s also a terrible teacher.”

“You got hurt because you refused to follow the rules,  _ not _ because of anything Hagrid did,” said Ursula. “What about the bit with Vincent? Flobberworms don’t even have teeth.”

“Look, Ursula,” said Draco. “We want Hagrid gone.”

“No,” said Ursula, “ _ we _ don’t. Be warned, Draco, that this sort of thing may come back to haunt you later.”

She swept back into the Great Hall, more irritated than ever. Ursula liked Hagrid as a person and as a teacher, even if he wasn’t the greatest teacher ever. It irked her greatly that so many of her peers were against him.

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Ursula and Hadrian left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. Vanessa was on a date with the Beauxbatons boy she had gone to the Yule Ball with, and Lilian and Terence were hanging out with his friends, although they refused to claim it was a date.

“Where should we go first?” asked Hadrian, as they walked down the slushy High Street.

“I ordered a book at Tomes & Scrolls,” said Ursula. “And then I want to go to Honeydukes.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Hadrian. He followed Ursula into the dimly lit, dusty bookshop.

“How can I help you?” asked the shopkeeper as Ursula approached the counter.

“I ordered a book,” said Ursula.

“Name?”

“Ursula Black.”

“Just a moment.”

The shopkeeper turned and slipped behind a dusty curtain that led to the backroom. Hadrian picked up a book, flipped through it for a moment, then returned it to the shelf.

“Why did you order a book?” he asked. “I thought the library at Corvus Manor had almost everything, and you already bought every Transfiguration book you could find.”

“I’m missing a volume in my encyclopedia of curses,” said Ursula. “I decided to replace it here.”

Just then, the shopkeeper returned, carrying a thick black book.

“Interesting book,” he said suspiciously, as Ursula paid.

“Aren’t they all?” said Ursula brightly, smiling as she took the book and left.

After a terrific trip to Honeydukes, Ursula and Hadrian headed to the Three Broomsticks, both weighed down by the sweets they had purchased. The pub was as crowded as ever, as it provided a warm, cozy respite from the chilly weather outside. Ursula found a table while Hadrian ordered two butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta.

While Hadrian was getting drinks, Ursula spotted Ludo Bagman reflected in the mirror behind the bar, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

“Here we are,” said Hadrian happily, handing Ursula a tall mug topped with whipped cream.

“Thanks,” said Ursula, taking a long, calming sip. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Fire away,” said Hadrian.

“What do you plan to do once you graduate?” asked Ursula. “I haven’t heard any grand career ambitions.”

“That’s because I don’t really have any,” said Hadrian with a grimace. “My father wants me to work in the Ministry, of course, but I don’t want to be an Auror, so over the summer I’m going to interview to be an assistant or something. I’m hoping to find something within the job that I really like, and then I can focus on that.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said Ursula. “I hope you find a position you like.”

“I’d rather nepotism stayed out of it, though,” said Hadrian. “I just feel so awkward every time Father puts me forward for something.”

“I get it,” said Ursula. “I —”

But their attention was drawn by a shout near the door of the pub.

“Who cares if he’s half-giant? There’s nothing wrong with him!”

Harry Potter was standing a little ways away from Rita Skeeter, who had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing. The whole pub had gone very quiet. Bagman was gone.

Rita Skeeter’s smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, “How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?”

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade.

“You horrible woman,” she said, through gritted teeth, “you don’t care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman —”

“Sit down, you silly little girl, and don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. “I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl… not that it needs it —” she added, eyeing Hermione’s bushy hair.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left, and murmuring chatter rose in their absence. Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

“I wish I had something on her,” said Ursula, tapping her nails against her glass. “How did she find out so much about Hagrid?”

“She’s wicked,” agreed Hadrian. “But you don’t need to get involved.”

Hagrid was back the following Monday. Whether he was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could, Ursula didn’t know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he’d returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Ursula thought they were beautiful, and even the Weasley twins were calm when they got to pet them.

“Easier ter spot than the adults,” Hagrid told the class. “They turn silver when they’re abou’ two years old, an’ they grow horns at aroun’ four. Don’ go pure white till they’re full grown, ’round about seven. They’re a bit more trustin’ when they’re babies… don’ mind boys so much… C’mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat ’em if yeh want… give ’em a few o’ these sugar lumps…”

Meanwhile, the mountain of schoolwork that the sixth years had to get through was piling ever higher. Ursula got to know the school library very well, as she spent several hours there every night. She studied with her friends, wrote essays, did translations, and read passages in books until her eyes wouldn’t stay open any more.

She had reason to be taking this many NEWT classes if she wanted to be a dragonologist — more than a few of the ones she had were unnecessary for her chosen profession. But she liked them all too much to consider dropping any, and it gave her a sense of accomplishment to prove she could handle her schedule.

Alchemy proved to be one of the hardest classes she had. Professor Tilcott was an enthusiastic teacher, but the material he was teaching was nearly impossible to master. Ursula and the others spent long hours memorizing formulas and muddling their way through theories, some of which they had to come up with themselves. Although Professor Tilcott assured them they would get it, they had done remarkably little actual alchemy by that point in the year.

Transfiguration was the next hardest class any of them were taking, and that was saying something. They had begun human Transfiguration shortly before winter break — Cassius had given himself green eyebrows on accident, but he fixed them — but now they were moving on to more difficult forms of it.

“Only one of you has mastered the most complex form of human Transfiguration, that is, to become an Animagus,” said Professor McGonagall, shooting a smile at Ursula, “and only one of you likely ever will. Human Transfiguration is the most complex branch of Transfiguration taught here at Hogwarts. You will again be performing it on yourselves, and today your goal is to change the shape of your nose.”

She stared around at them all, her expression turning even more serious.

“This particular spell has a propensity for going badly wrong when cast incorrectly,” she said. “You will not be attempting it nonverbally until you have proven you can cast it correctly. If anyone cannot undo what they have done to themselves, please come see me.”

Thankfully, there were no permanent injuries after that class, but a number of students were sent to Madam Pomfrey to regrow their nostrils by the end of it.

January soon faded into February, and the snow melted into slush and mud that was soon tracked all over the castle, to the annoyance of Filch. Shortly after, Valentine’s Day arrived, and Ursula found herself having to grin and bear it, keeping up the facade of her relationship with Hadrian with every bone in her body.

The day started out as it always did, with Ursula and her friends giving one another valentines. Then Ursula and Hadrian exchanged cards and gifts, and that was where things started to get a little rougher.

Hadrian presented Ursula with a large bouquet of flowers at breakfast, alongside a card and a teddy bear, and Ursula similarly gave him a card and a box of Chocolate Cauldrons filled with Firewhisky.

“Aww, you’re such a cute couple,” Cressida Selwyn told Ursula. Ursula smiled shyly, and glanced over at Hadrian.

“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” she said.

Ursula got similar remarks all day, as Hadrian walked her to her classes. This was the one time when they felt compelled to show public displays of affection beyond hand holding, and Ursula was not thrilled. Hadrian was a decent kisser, she supposed, but he wasn’t the one she wanted to be kissing, and vice versa.

She hadn’t realized the true extent of their relationship, meaning how many other students were interested in it. She had been completely right about rumors doing plenty — up until today, she and Hadrian hadn’t kissed since Christmas. Hadrian was very handsome, which she already knew, but Ursula hadn’t realized her own popularity. She was well known from Quidditch, of course, and since she was a prefect, and she was friendly to everyone, but truly for the first time Ursula was aware of what that meant. The other Slytherins in particular looked up to her, and her seemingly perfect relationship with a smart, handsome, pureblood Durmstrang guy only made her more popular.

As Ursula sat down in Charms, after a double Ancient Runes lesson when she had received her largest pile of translations, not to mention a reading, ever, she was, at least, thankful that Lockhart’s singing dwarves had left with him.

“Hey Black,” said Fred. He and George went up and down the rows of the Charms class, handing out small bags of truffles to everyone. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Hello Weasley,” said Ursula. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Are these normal truffles or is there a canary cream concealed in the center?”

“I told you, we’ve moved on,” said Fred. But just as he said that, Lilian turned momentarily into a canary, then back to a human, cursing.

“I can see that,” said Ursula dryly.

The rest of the class was now eyeing their own truffles warily.

“Most of them are just normal chocolates,” confided Fred in a low voice, as people began to hesitantly nibble the edges after Lee assured them they were alright. “But some, well…”

“Have a surprise in the middle?” asked Ursula. Fred winked at her and went to his seat, two rows behind her.

The chocolates were tasty enough that most of the students didn’t mind if they occasionally were covered in feathers. Most bags had one truffle that was really a canary cream, except for Jacob’s, where all four of his caused him to break out in feathers. Strangely enough, Ursula didn’t turn into a canary once.

At lunch, Hadrian presented her with a second bouquet, where this time the flower heads were replaced with chocolate imitations. There were chocolate roses, of course, but also chocolate covered strawberries and, strangely, but to Ursula’s delight, chocolate oranges.

“I love these,” she said, breaking off a slice and nibbling on it.

Her day was rounded out with double History of Magic and Alchemy, and after acting the part of an in-love couple at dinner, Ursula and Hadrian were free to drop the act. They were, however, studying together in the library, which of course only encouraged rumours, but of course the most exciting thing to happen was when Hadrian knocked over his entire bottle of ink onto a library book when Cassius walked by and Ursula had to help him clean it up.

After Valentine’s Day, the next — and most — exciting event was the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. On Saturday, February twenty-fifth, the students headed down after breakfast for the second task, which was taking place in the Black Lake.

The seats that had encircled the dragons’ enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below.

“It’s freezing,” said Ursula, burying her nose in her scarf.

“Viktor’s got this,” said Hadrian excitedly. “The lakes at Durmstrang are cold year round — we’ve all swam in them, so he’ll do great.”

The champions had begun to line up at the edge of the lake. Viktor wore swimming trunks and nothing else, while Cedric and Fleur both wore long sleeved swim suits. Harry, strangely, was wearing his full school uniform. All four champions were clutching their wands anxiously.

“Does Potter not understand that they have to swim?” said Adrian dubiously.

At the judges table, Bagman pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, “ _ Sonorus _ !” and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!”

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Three of the four champions ran straight into the water; Harry, on the other hand, had to stop to take off his shoes and socks before wading in, still wearing his robes. A few people, including Draco, laughed rather unkindly.

“What an idiot,” said Gemma.

For a moment after the four champions disappeared, nothing happened.

“Er — are we just going to watch an empty lake for an hour?” asked Lilian, shivering slightly.

Thankfully, the answer was no. Professor Dumbledore raised his wand, and at once four giant images hovered in the sky above the Black Lake, one for each champion.

Harry, it seemed, had used gillyweed to give himself gills and webbed feet, and was now diving easily into the briny depths of the lake. He was stopped momentarily by grindylows, but managed to keep swimming. Meanwhile, Viktor had transfigured his head into that of a shark and was swimming fast and deep. Cedric and Fleur had both used the Bubble-Head Charm.

All four champions swam in murky water for more than half an hour. All of a sudden, a cheer rose up from the Hogwarts students as Harry became the first to reach what was taken from them — which turned out to be their fellow students.

“Yeah, that’s not cool,” said Cassius.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

The four students were Cho Chang, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and a young French girl with silvery blonde hair. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

At this point, however, Harry did not seem to have a plan. He dithered for a few moments, then dived down and grabbed a rock from the floor of the lake, which he used to cut the rope around Ron’s ankle. He tried to take Hermione too, but the merpeople pushed him back.

The Hogwarts students cheered even louder as Cedric arrived. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched. They could tell by the giant screens that the other champions were getting close too, and Cedric wasted no time blasting the rope holding Cho and shooting up towards the surface with her.

At the same time, Fleur was battling the Grindylows, and they seemed to be winning. It was weird to watch the footage with no sound. Soon, the Grindylows overpowered Fleur, and she shot up to the surface. Several of the other Beauxbatons students helped her out of the lake and wrapped her in a towel. The screen tracking her winked out as she left the lake.

Just then, Viktor arrived at the hostages, showing up as Cedric simultaneously took Cho and left. The Hogwarts students cheered as he swam to the surface. Meanwhile, Viktor had grabbed Hermione and Harry was still floating down in the lake.

“What is he doing?” shouted Lilian. Cedric got out of the lake and Cho woke up, and Viktor and Hermione did the same, with Viktor’s head going back to normal.

Harry managed to get past the merpeople and broke the rope holding the young girl, who was likely Fleur’s sister. He began to drag both her and Ron up to the surface, but the gillyweed was wearing off. At last, their heads broke the surface and the last screen turned off. The crowd roared, shouting and screaming, and everyone jumped to their feet.

The judges went into a huddle. Soon Ludo Bagman’s magically magnified voice boomed out, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows… Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.”

Polite, if a little disappointed, applause sounded.

“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.”

Ursula and the others cheered as loud as they could, whistling and stamping their feet and clapping until their hands were numb.

“We therefore award him forty-seven points.” The crowd cheered louder; the Hufflepuffs were particularly vocal. “Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.”

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior. Hadrian whistled.

“Way to go Viktor!” he shouted.

“Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect,” Bagman continued. “He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own.”

Cassius snorted.

“Good for him, if it gets him points,” he said.

“Most of the judges,” and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, “feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter’s score is forty-five points.”

“He’s tied with Cedric!” said Ursula. “They’re in the lead!”

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” continued Bagman with some difficulty, as the noise of the crowd reached new levels. “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

Ursula pushed her way through the crowd, Hadrian at her side, trying to get to their respective champions. While Hadrian high fived Viktor, Ursula gave Cedric — who was still soaking wet — a hug.

“You did great!” she said. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” said Cedric, beaming.

“All that’s left now is the third task,” said Ursula.

“And he’s going to win,” said Cho confidently. They both looked at Cedric and laughed.

“That he is,” said Ursula, grinning. “That he is.”


	68. The Necklace and the Pocket Watch

Spring blossomed over the Hogwarts grounds, clearing the frost with rays of warm sunlight and welcoming budding flowers and the return of leaves on trees. The days warmed up again and everyone’s mood brightened. It felt like a time for new beginnings, and for Vanessa, it was.

She had gone on two dates with the Beauxbatons boy who was her Yule Ball date, but then they stopped seeing each other. Shortly after Valentine’s Day, Jacob had asked Vanessa to accompany him to Hogsmeade and they had been dating ever since.

It was great for Vanessa, because she and Jacob got along well, they had almost identical schedules — the only class that Vanessa had that Jacob didn’t was Alchemy — and Vanessa got along with Jacob’s friends. Jacob, however, had a much harder time and much less interest in hanging out with Vanessa’s friends, since they didn’t get along. Lilian in particular could barely stand to be around him, and often when he showed up she grabbed one of the others for company and left.

Soon, the sixth years received another pleasant surprise. Overnight, a notice had appeared in the Slytherin common room, which read:

**APPARITION LESSONS**

**If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen**

**on or before the 31st August next, you are eligible for a**

**twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Min-**

**istry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below**

**if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons.**

All of the sixth years signed up excitedly, passing around a quill. Soon they had their first lesson, on Saturday so no regular lessons would be missed. It took place on the grounds of the castle, so after breakfast the sixth years trooped outside, to where their Heads of Houses waited with a small wizard whom Ursula took to be the Apparition instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away.

“Good morning,” said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of Houses had called for quiet. “My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition Tests in this time, so that you may be ready to take your tests when the time comes.”

“As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts,” continued Twycross. “The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the borders laid out here —” He pointed at the sticks that marked the boundaries of their Apparation zone. “— for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasize that you will not be able to Apparate outside the boundaries, and that you would be unwise to try. I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.”

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of Houses moved among the students, marshaling them into position and breaking up arguments.

“Thank you,” said Twycross, once the Heads of Houses had shouted for quiet. “Now then…”

He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in front of every student

“The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D’s!” said Twycross. “Destination, Determination, Deliberation! Step one: Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination, in this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now.”

Everybody looked around furtively to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told. Ursula focused hard on the patch of grass within her hoop, trying to study it closely and not think of anything else.

“Step two,” said Twycross, “focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!”

Several students were straining so hard now that their faces turned pink.

“Step three,” called Twycross, “and only when I give the command… Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! On my command, now… one —”

Ursula glanced around; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly.

“— two —”

She fixed her thoughts on her hoop, focusing on the three D’s.

“— THREE!”

Ursula spun on the spot. Nothing happened. The whole lawn was suddenly full of staggering students. Adrian had fallen over, as had several other people, and one or two had simply jumped into their hoops rather than Apparated.

“Never mind, never mind,” said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. “Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions…”

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a shout of surprise and pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Dennis Moon of Ravenclaw standing in his hoop with his right arm still waiting five feet away where he had started.

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Dennis looking pleased that his arm had been reattached, and far too casual about the whole affair.

“Splinching, or the separation of random body parts,” said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, “occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation… thus.”

Twycross stepped forward, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched, and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the other end of the lawn.

“Remember the three D’s,” he said, “and try again… one — two — three —”

But an hour later, Dennis’s Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, “Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget:  _ Destination. Determination. Deliberation. _ ”

With that, he waved his wand, vanishing the hoops, and followed Professor McGonagall back into the school. Talk broke out at once as people began moving toward the entrance hall.

Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill feeling toward Wilkie Twycross and his three D’s, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dogbreath and Dunghead. Not until the fifth lesson did Cedric prove to be the first student to accomplish it. Driven by his success, several students, Ursula and Cassius among them, managed it a week later.

After they finished with the unicorns, Hagrid brought in nifflers, which delighted his four sixth years. They were quite rowdy and quite cute. In the crates at his feet, Hagrid had a couple dozen fluffy black nifflers, all of whom had long snouts and flat front paws.

“These’re nifflers,” said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. “Yeh find ’em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff… See?”

He dangled a gold coin on a string and no less than four nifflers jumped up to try to grab it.

“Useful little treasure detectors,” said Hagrid happily. “Thought we’d have some fun with ’em today. See over there?”

He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth.

“I’ve buried some gold coins. I’ve got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus’ take off all yer valuables, an’ choose a niffler, an’ get ready ter set ’em loose.”

Ursula took off her jewelry, unclasping her necklace and pulling out her earrings and taking off the rings she was wearing, putting them all in her bag. She caught Rue giving her a dirty, judging look and shot back a glare of her own when she saw Rue wore a number of rings.

Once all her jewelry was off, Ursula walked over to the crates to choose a niffler. She picked out a particularly chubby one, who put his snout in her ear and nuzzled her enthusiastically. He was quite cuddly and she laughed.

It was some of the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Fred and George ended up tied, and Hagrid broke the large bar of Honeydukes chocolate that he had gotten as a reward in half and gave it to them.

Once the nifflers were done finding coins, some of them wanted to scurry around and keep looking while Ursula’s just wanted to cuddle. He climbed onto her shoulder and curled up to snooze. Ursula was thrilled, and kept playing with him as Hagrid talked more about nifflers. Eventually, because the class ended, she bid him goodbye and put him back in the crate with the others, but she was quite sad to do so.

“You’ll bond with anything, won’t you?” said Rue in an undertone, wearing a fake smile and speaking in a falsely sweet voice.

“Except you, apparently,” said Ursula, her voice just as suffocatingly sweet.

Their workload mounted ever higher as the Easter holidays approached. Once they arrived, however, Adrian was on a campaign to get Ursula and Cassius outside for Quidditch practice. They had been practising every couple of weeks since the beginning of the year to make sure they still knew how, and Adrian was itching to play a proper scrimmage game.

“Please,” said Adrian, dropping into the chair across from Ursula in the Slytherin common room and taking her Ancient Runes textbook. “Come on, it’d be fun.”

“No,” said Ursula, grabbing her book back so she could finish her translations. “We have no one to play against, and I’m not asking the Gryffindors.”

“The Ravenclaws are too busy,” added Cassius. “And the Hufflepuffs haven’t held tryouts, plus Cedric’s a champion.”

“Come on, you two, we need a break!” said Adrian. “It’d be fun!”

“I’m in favor,” said Cassius. “But Ursula’s right — we have no one to play against.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Ursula, “ _ if _ you can find a team to play against,  _ and _ if I’ve finished my Potions essay, I’ll play.”

“Deal,” said Adrian. He left, taking Cassius with him, who clearly had an idea. Ursula sighed, rolled her eyes, and focused on her homework.

It only took Adrian until dinnertime to find a team to play against.

“I got your boyfriend to agree to play,” said Adrian smugly. “Neither team will use seekers, but the Durmstrang students were excited about the idea.”

“A deal is a deal,” said Ursula. “Tomorrow, then?”

So the next day after breakfast, she, Adrian, and Cassius — who hadn’t officially become the new chaser now that Marcus Flint was gone but who’d basically earned the role — went down to the Quidditch pitch. Their usual beaters, Peregrine and Lucian, and Miles Bletchley, the keeper, had all easily agreed to play.

Adrian was right about the Durmstrang students being excited to play. Hadrian, Ingrid, and another boy named Magnus were the chasers, Vincent and a beefy boy named Sven were the beaters, and Emil was the keeper. They got out their brooms and equipment excitedly. Lilian was refereeing, along with a girl from Durmstrang named Veronika to keep it fair.

Lilian blew her whistle, and at once Adrian caught the Quaffle and went shooting down the pitch. He passed quickly to Cassius, who passed to Ursula, and back to Adrian, who scored quickly on Emil.

“Very nice!” shouted Ingrid. “Our turn!”

It quickly turned into the most brutal game of Quidditch Ursula had ever played, including the match against Gryffindor at the end of last year, but it was thrilling all the same. Durmstrang’s beaters were better than Lucian and Peregrine, but Slytherin’s chasers were superior to theirs. Quite a large crowd gathered to watch the brutal, bloody, foul-heavy match. Eventually Lee Jordan began to commentate, just for the fun of it.

“Don’t go easy on her ‘cause she’s your girlfriend, Hadrian!” roared Magnus, as Ursula shot past Hadrian once again.

“Ursula, duck!” bellowed Adrian, and Ursula rolled on her broom instinctively to avoid slamming into Sven’s bat.

By the end of the match, which had turned out to be far more competitive and painful than intended, the Slytherins were leading in goals scored, although Lilian and Veronika had long since lost count, but Lucian and Bletchley had both been nearly knocked out by Bludgers and had to stop playing. The game ended jovially, with all the players happy, despite being quite bruised. All of them needed to visit the Hospital Wing.

“Come on Hadrian, give her a kiss!” shouted Emil as they landed.

Hadrian grinned and tried to trap Ursula in a hug, but she wiggled free, laughing. His nose was bent out of shape, bruised and bloody.

“Not with a broken nose!” Ursula declared, shaking her head. Hadrian and Cassius draped their arms around her shoulders, towering over her like two massive bodyguards.

“What do we have here?” said Fred, one of the many students who had flooded onto the pitch to greet the players, with George and Lee beside him. “Good game, Black.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” said Ursula. She knew she must look a sight, with her hair escaping her braid, a black eye, and blood streaked across her cheek. She wiped a bead of blood off her upper lip. “Those two could give y’all a run for your money.”

Fred and George sized up Vincent and Sven, who were cleaning off their bats as they chatted happily with their friends, both sporting bad bruises.

“We could take them,” said George confidently.

“Well, we’d better go get cleaned up by Madam Pomfrey,” said Cassius. “If you’ll excuse us.”

They left the pitch and trooped through the castle, leading a straggling line of their fellow players and drawing the confused and slightly frightened eyes of many who had not attended the game. Madam Pomfrey huffed, clicking her tongue in irritation, and directed them each to a separate bed, muttering under her breath about how ‘dangerous and irresponsible of them it was to play without a proper referee’ as she bustled about, handing potions and jabbing people’s faces with her wand here and there.

~~~

There were no more Quidditch games once the Easter holidays were over, as the Quidditch pitch was being transformed for the third task. There was still no sign of Barty Crouch, but Hadrian relayed to Ursula that he had attacked Viktor in the most unusual manner, and then disappeared.

There were other signs that something strange was afoot. Karkaroff was acting peculiar, enough that it was visible to Ursula, if subtle. Hadrian informed her that he had become withdrawn and twitchy, and angrier than usual at his students.

All of this left Ursula with a bad feeling, increasingly uneasy that something bad would soon happen, though she had no reason to believe it would. Just to be safe, however, she decided to write home for yet another book.

“Are you sure?” said Hadrian in an undertone, when Ursula told him of her plan at dinner. “I mean, what if someone else gets their hands on it? It contains a lot of sensitive information that you don’t exactly want other people knowing.”

“I see your point,” replied Ursula. “I’ll just ask for the specific information I want from the book, alright?”

Hadrian agreed, and Ursula revised her letter. The next morning, earlier than normal as the castle grounds were still covered in mist, she headed upstairs to the Owlery. As she climbed the stone steps, she could hear voices talking rather urgently.

“Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds, because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn’t it —”

“What we need is Siri — Snuffles’s — help. How are you going to prepare?”

“It’s just a maze —”

“Yeah, one full of dangerous creatures. You know the kind of thing Hagrid likes —”

“Shh!”

The voices fell silent as Ursula opened the door to the Owlery, and beheld Harry, Ron, and Hermione staring at her with anxious, sleep deprived eyes. She walked over to the opposite side of the Owlery, keenly aware of their eyes on her back, and called Agatha down from the rafters.

“You know,” she said, her back still to the trio as she tied the letter to Agatha’s leg, “if you’re looking for jinxes and charms to learn that could be useful in a variety of situations, you may want to start in the library, with Amadeus Aynesworth.”

Agatha flew off, and Ursula turned and left the Owlery without looking at the trio, shutting the door behind her.

A few days later, shortly before Ursula’s birthday, she got a response to her letter written in Dimsey’s hand.

_ Dear Mistress, _

_ Here is the information Mistress wanted. Dimsey found the book you requested. _

_ Barty Crouch Jr. — Received Dark Mark in 1979. Sentenced to life in Azkaban in 1981 for attacking the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. Died 1982. _

_ Igor Karkaroff — Received Dark Mark in 1975. Sentenced to life in Azkaban in 1980 for torturing non-supports of Voldemort. Released in 1983 after naming other Death Eaters. _

_ Mistress should know that there was a black stamp over the latter’s name. _

_ Dimsey and Helgie will be writing to Mistress again with your birthday present. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Dimsey _

“Interesting,” said Ursula. “Very interesting.”

Among the many books in the library at Corvus Manor, there were a great deal that outlined the events of the First Wizarding War. These were, of course, kept on hidden shelves and often with great enchantments protecting them. One such book listed the names of the Death Eaters, both those who were under the Imperius Curse and who were not, as well as other supporters of You-Know-Who, and their fate, and it was from this book that Ursula had wanted information.

Ursula showed Hadrian the letter, then burned it. It did put her mind at ease that Crouch’s son was dead, horrible as that sounded. She was still suspicious of Karkaroff, but less so than she was before.

Ursula had other worries. Her relationship with Hadrian, on top of all of her schoolwork, was getting harder and harder to fake. She said as much to Cassius Thursday night, during Astronomy.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she confessed, her voice low, as she bent over her star chart.

“What’s so hard about it?” said Cassius.

“Nothing, really,” said Ursula. “Or nothing should be. It’s just… pretending to be in love when the stakes are this high is not easy. Everyone wants this to work but Hadrian and I.  _ Everyone _ . Even outside of our families. Do you know how many old women have told me how lucky I am to find someone as good as Hadrian who can overlook that I was born out of wedlock? It’s insane.”

“If it makes you feel better,  _ I _ don’t want your relationship to work out,” said Cassius, but Ursula was in no mood for jokes.

“I’m just…” she rubbed her forehead. “I’m just so bloody tired of our arrangement.  _ Pure Commité _ indeed.”

Unbeknownst to them, their conversation had been overheard by none other than Rue, who was bent over her own telescope nearby. She hadn’t been paying any mind to her neighbor’s conversation, until the French phrase caught her ears.

Rue didn’t hate Ursula. Moreover, she resented her, just as she resented the whole culture of elitist purebloods. She resented the influence that Ursula had over her fellow students, and how the girl herself didn’t seem to realize it. She resented Fred’s attraction to her, because she didn’t want to see him get hurt. He was already considered a blood traitor and getting mixed up in pureblood affairs was dangerous even in the best of circumstances

But this… this made her see things a little differently. She hadn’t realized just how much shit the pureblood families were wrapped up in, and how much Ursula had to deal with all the time. It was strange to think that they were the same age, yet had such different experiences and expectations in life. For Rue, her family wanted her to do well in school, and get a good job, and just generally be happy. But Ursula’s family… well, an arranged marriage spoke for itself, and Rue had the feeling that that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Rue knew that she held very sensitive information now, information that could seriously damage Ursula’s reputation, if anyone would believe her. But that would be a dick move, and besides… Fred would be very happy to hear that Ursula might still be available.

‘ _ Oh Merlin, that was cheesy _ ,’ thought Rue, oddly comforted that her first reaction wasn’t some sort of revenge. ‘ _ I need to tell Fred _ .’

It was early, very early indeed, when Rue went to wait outside the Gryffindor common room and yell for Lee until he came out, as the Fat Lady once again refused to let her in without the password.

“Lee!” she shouted, ignoring the stares of passing students. “Lee Jordan!”

The Fat Lady glared down at her, yawning behind her hand.

“Lee!” shouted Rue, she waited a beat. “Leonardo da Vinci Jordan!”

Inside Gryffindor Tower, the sleepy sixth year boys were being jolted out of their stupor by Rue’s shouts. Fred and George covered their ears and went back to sleep, but Lee pushed himself out of bed with a groan.

“Sounds like your girlfriend’s outside, Lee,” said Kenneth Towler, sounding very annoyed and punctuating his sentence with a huge yawn.

“Yeah, I’ve got fucking ears, thanks very much mate,” said Lee. As he left the dorm, he added, “And she’s not my girlfriend!”

Lee headed down the stairs and hurried across the Gryffindor common room, climbing out of the portrait hole to be met by a rather impatient Ravenclaw.

“Ah, Rue, I thought I heard your dulcet tones,” said Lee, greeting his best friend.

“Go fetch Fred for me would ya,” she said immediately.

“Hello to you too,” said Lee, amused.

“Bore da, toi couillon. Now go get Fred,” repeated Rue, using a chaotic combination of Welsh, French, and English.

“My lady, you wound me, my soul despairs to know that it is not I who is your true heart’s desire,” said Lee facetiously, mock bowing to her. Rue gave him an impressively dry look. “Your wish is my command.”

Ignoring the Fat Lady’s glare, Lee went back through the portrait hole and up to his dorm. It took him several tries to rouse Fred, by which time he had also roused George, the other boys in their dorm, and probably everyone else in Gryffindor Tower. Fred eventually got up and got dressed, and he and George followed Lee downstairs and outside, to where Rue was leaning against the wall, playing with one of her many rings.

“What’s up?” asked Fred, stifling a yawn.

Rue brightened considerably at the sight of the three boys.

“Come with me,” she said, beckoning them to follow and starting off down the hallway. 

“Any clue what she’s on about now?” George glanced over to Lee thoroughly perplexed.. Lee simply shrugged and the three of them took off after their tiny friend, their long legs making up the gap quite easily.

“Rue, what’s this about?” Fred repeated his twin's question so Rue could hear.

“I’ve got something to tell you, but I can’t say it out here.”

“Ooh, a secret,” said George.

The boys followed Rue to the nearest classroom. She shut the door behind them, and muttered a locking charm. Fred plopped down into a chair and tilted it back, putting his feet up on the desk he was sitting behind.

“Alright,” he said. “Spill it.”

“It’s about your girlfriend,” said Rue.

“My who?” said Fred.

Rue sighed.

“Ursula Black,” she said, looking mildly annoyed at the name coming out of her own mouth.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” protested Fred, his face pink.

“But you want her to be!” said George, and he and Lee high-fived. Fred’s ears turned red.

“My point exactly,” said Rue, her eyes shining as she finally started to explain. “You are a pining idiot and I have information that just might be the cure. Black and Rowle aren’t really dating.”

With a crash, Fred tipped his chair too far back and fell to the floor.

“What?” he spluttered, scrambling to his feet. “I — what?”

“How do you know?” said George, who was able to form coherent sentences, unlike his twin.

“Last night during Astronomy, Black and Warrington were talking about her boyfriend, Rowle,” said Rue, “and Black used the phrase  _ Pure Commité _ .”

She waited for a reaction but got none. Lee frowned. He was the only one who spoke French, and it was he who was teaching Rue, but even he couldn’t piece together what it meant.

“Why would she say ‘pure convenience’?” said Lee.

“I did some thinking,” said Rue. “The fancy purebloods only let their kids marry other purebloods, right? And a marriage of convenience is one where the people involved are marrying for political or financial reasons. So obviously she and Rowle are faking the whole thing.”

“That is not obvious to anyone but you,” muttered George. Rue ignored him. 

“I can’t say if they’re planning to break up or go through with it, but…” Rue turned back to Fred. “At least now you have a shot.”

“Yeah,” said Fred, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do.”

~~~

As April rolled to an end, a new sign on the notice board that announced the date for their Apparition Test. Those who would be seventeen on or before the first test date, the thirteenth of April, had the option of signing up for additional practice sessions, which would take place (heavily supervised) in Hogsmeade.

“I’ll have to wait until the next date, in June,” said Ursula.

“At least you can Apparate,” said Adrian, who hadn’t managed it yet and was worried he wouldn’t be ready for the test.

Come the test date, which was a Thursday, Ursula’s classes were significantly less populated than usual, as most of her classmates were already seventeen. After double Transfiguration, she headed down to Care of Magical Creatures, only to find that she and Rue were alone, as Fred and George were off taking the test.

Rue eyed Ursula with an odd look on her face. She seemed to have defrosted a bit in recent days, while Fred had been unusually cheerful, even for him.

“Pass the crickets,” said Rue, adding after a moment, “Please.”

“Sure. Here you go,” said Ursula, passing her the dish of dead crickets. They were dealing with Mokes today, green and silver lizards that could grow up to ten inches in length and could shrink at will.

“Thanks,” said Rue.

“You’re welcome,” said Ursula. That was the extent of their conversation for the whole period, but it was something.

At lunch, Ursula found out if her friends had passed their Apparition tests or not. Gemma and Cassius had, and were quite smug about it, and Vanessa babbled on and on about how she was sure she was going to fail right up until she passed. Adrian, however, had left a fingernail behind, and as a result he failed. Ursula reminded him that he could take it again in June with her and Lilian, and he brightened immediately.

The rainy April days gave way to sunny May ones, and the Hogwarts ground were positively blooming. Ursula had nearly forgotten about her birthday, busy as she was with schoolwork, but it was an important one, as seventeen was when a witch comes of age. Her birthday happened on a Sunday this year, and it was an absolutely lovely day.

“Good morning!” she said brightly at breakfast. Today she wore a pale pink dress with yellow flowers.

“Happy birthday, Ursula darling,” said Hadrian, handing her a bouquet of flowers and pecking her on the cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Why thank you,” said Ursula, smiling.

“Here, open my gift,” said Hadrian, handing her a small, dark blue box. Ursula usually didn’t open her birthday gifts in the Great Hall, but she knew it was an important gesture.

“They’re… beautiful,” she said with a gasp, running her finger down the sapphire earrings.

“That’s quite the gift,” said Lilian.

“Indeed,” said Ursula, snapping the lid shut. “Thank you very much, Hadrian. I should go put these in my dorm —”

“Ah, but you haven’t opened our gifts yet!” said Cassius. Ursula shot him a meaningful look.

“I’m not going to open them at the table,” she said. “How about I meet y’all outside, hmm?”

After returning Hadrian’s earrings and the bouquet he had given her to her dorm — she seemed to always have flowers in her dorm — Ursula met the others outside, where they had sprawled under the shade of a large beech tree, enjoying the warm, sunny day with a hint of flowers in the breeze.

She got sweets from Honeydukes from Cassius, and a book each from Adrian and Lilian, his about Quidditch and hers about Transfiguration, with pictures of them all tucked between the pages. She got a history book from Gemma and a bottle of her favorite perfume from Vanessa, which only left the gifts from home.

Ursula had opened her gifts from her father and stepfather and the other Scamanders separately, as they were special but also private. From Narcissa and Lucius she had received two boxes, and from her House Elves she got a clipping of her favorite plant to keep on her desk.

Ursula opened the larger of the boxes from her aunt and uncle first, reading her aunt’s note.

_ Dearest Ursula, _

_ Your mother received hers on her seventeenth birthday. It is time you had one of your own. Happy birthday. _

_ Love, _

_ Narcissa _

“Open it!” said Vanessa impatiently.

Inside the jewelry box lay a pearl necklace, of just the right length and size, a near but not identical match to the one she had inherited from her mother.

“It’s lovely,” said Hadrian, putting a hand on Ursula’s shoulder, for she was at a loss for words. “Shall I help you put it on?”

Ursula shook her head, lifting the delicate strand of pearls from the box herself and clasping it gently around her neck. She turned to the last box, which contained a short explanation.

“This is from my grandfather,” she said, slightly stunned. “Since he had no sons, he wanted me to have it when I turned seventeen.”

She pulled a silver pocket watch from the box, admiring the magnificent craftsmanship. It ticked silently away, with the sun, moon, and stars instead of numbers, set in beautiful gemstones. Ursula could recall when Cygnus wore it, and how he always told her it was special, that it was enchanted, although he never told her precisely what it did.

“Witches don’t often get watches, do they?” said Cassius.

“Not usually, no,” said Ursula.

“You’re seventeen now!” said Gemma. “That makes you an adult.”

“Let’s sing Happy Birthday, shall we?” suggested Adrian. “To the youngest in our little group.”

“Hey!” said Ursula. “Lilian’s birthday isn’t for three more weeks!”

“Rude!” said Lilian, pouting. “I didn’t want to be the youngest for once.”

They all laughed. Ursula stared, mesmerized, at the pocket watch as her friends began to sing. It was very bittersweet to be holding it, or indeed to feel the pearls around her neck. She missed her grandfather, and it should’ve been her mother here to give her the necklace. But even with her sadness, Ursula was grateful for who she had, so it was a very happy seventeenth birthday.


	69. The Third Task

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. The students were rallying ever harder behind their respective champions which, for most of Hogwarts, meant doing everything they could to support Cedric, everything from well wishes to offers to help him cheat.

Ursula, for her part, was helping Cedric practice any and all spells he might need. His other friends were helping too, and between all of their studying for their end of year exams they managed to piece together a network big enough to help him practice nearly every night.

“Damn,” said Cedric, when Ursula unlocked the door to dungeon six, where the League of Laurels met, and he beheld the dummies lined up, the crackling fire, and the tables with low armchairs arranged in the back. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Not exactly,” said Ursula, smiling. “I started a Slytherin-only club where we meet to practice different spells.”

“Slytherin-only, huh?” said Cedric. “I take it that means I can’t join?”

“Win the third task and ask me again,” said Ursula. Cedric laughed. “Right, where should we start?”

Meanwhile, everyone but the champions had end of year exams to take. Although studying wasn’t nearly as rigorous as it had been for NEWTs, Ursula was exhausted by the time her first exam arrived. After the written parts of the exam were over, Ursula’s professors set them complex practical tasks.

For Professor Flitwick, Ursula nonverbally turned vinegar into wine, then conjured wine glasses for all of it. When Professor Flitwick declared her wine excellent and more than fit for drinking, she vanished the whole thing, also nonverbally, earning her top marks.

For Potions, Professor Snape declared that they would be brewing Amortentia, which they hadn’t even so much as talked about before in his class, as the practical portion of their final exam.

“You may begin,” he said, turning over an enormous hourglass.

The potion was extraordinarily finicky, as they soon found out, and prone to disaster should they do so much as stir it in the wrong direction, or one too many times, or too few. Most of the ingredients varied by amount needed from person to person, and had to be precisely prepared.

Ursula began by setting four frozen ashwinder eggs in the bottom of her cauldron. She covered them with water, setting the fire under her cauldron to a low heat, and added one drop of Essence of Insanity and two of the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, both of which she doubted Professor Snape would have provided for them had time allowed them to make it.

Once the water had reached a rolling boil, Ursula began to add rose thorns. They had to be added one by one, until the potion turned a deep red. Lilian, on Ursula’s right, only had to add one, but Adrian, on Ursula’s left, was nearing two dozen by the time his potion turned red. Ursula counted eight prickly thorns, and her potion became a deep, wine red.

Next, she added two more ashwinder eggs that she had ground into a fine powder, turning the potion black. It was quite runny, as it should be, so she stirred clockwise and then counterclockwise nine times, adding a drop of peppermint each time, until the potion thickened to the consistency of custard and turned a pale, rosy pink.

“Half an hour remaining,” announced Professor Snape.

Ursula began to add powdered moonstone, ever so carefully, until steam began to rise from the potion. Then she stirred slowly, repeating the clockwise-counterclockwise pattern from before. Finally, when the potion turned white, she sprinkled in pearl dust, and the distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen began to rise from her cauldron, accompanied by curling wisps of smoke.

“Time is up,” called Professor Snape. Ursula stepped back from her cauldron, turning off the heat and looking to see what her classmates had produced. Nearly everyone seemed to have managed it, though they were all flushed, both from the difficulty of the potion and the overload of scents in the air.

Now that Ursula was finished brewing Amortentia, and Professor Snape was dropping rose petals into each cauldron to watch it burn, if the potion had been brewed correctly, she had time to reflect on what, exactly, she smelled.

“Put a vial of your potion on my desk,” said Professor Snape, having finished his prowl around the room. Ursula ladled her sample into a crystal vial, secured the stopper, and set it on Professor Snape’s desk, vanishing the rest of the potion as instruction, as it was a banned substance at Hogwarts.

“So?” said Cassius excitedly, as they left the dungeon. “What did you smell?”

“Parchment, ink, and burning wax,” said Gemma, her voice no-nonsense.

“I smelled wet dog first,” admitted Lilian, “and then fresh-baked bread, dewy grass, and my mum’s perfume… it’s lavender, with a hint of vanilla.”

“I smelled broomstick polish, mince pies, and wind,” said Adrian.

“Wind doesn’t have a smell, on its own,” said Gemma.

“Well I smelled it,” said Adrian. “It reminded me of flying.”

“I smelled the wood of a broomstick, which is similar,” said Cassius. “And eclairs, men’s cologne, and something clean and crisp — snow, I think. Ursula, what about you?”

“I smelled a lot of things,” said Ursula. “Oak and old books, to begin with, and the scent of the air before it rains. I could also smell fire, like from an explosion —”

“— dragonfire,” declared Adrian.

“— and chocolate covered strawberries, and mint,” said Ursula. “Oh, and I smelled perfume as well. It was flowery, so it was mine and my aunt’s…”  _ and my mother’s _ , she finished silently in her head.

Unlike the first through fourth years, the sixth years had their exams spread over two weeks, as both the written and practical portions were more intense. Ursula got up on Monday feeling mildly unprepared for her Herbology exam and very sad.

“Hey,” said Hadrian softly, touching her arm at breakfast. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” said Ursula. “I’m okay. Can you meet me at the Black Lake during lunch?”

“Of course,” said Hadrian.

After Ursula’s Herbology exam, she promised Gemma and Lilian that she would be up for lunch and wandered down to the Black Lake, feeling strangely fragile. She had a bouquet of flowers with her, and she stopped on the shore, standing in the summer air under a cloudless sky.

Ursula pulled out one flower and skillfully removed the head of the flower from the stem.

“I love you, mum,” she whispered, breathing in the scent of the flower.

Then she tossed it into the lake, and watched it float away.

Because today, June 19th, 1995, marked fifteen years since Cassiopeia had been murdered.

Ursula did the same to all the other flowers in the bouquet, until she had only a few left, plus a handful of empty stems, and the water in front of her had filled with flowers that drifted gently away in the current.

Feet crunched on the rocky shore, and a moment later she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

“May I?” said Hadrian quietly. Ursula nodded and handed him a flower, and he knelt to set it adrift.

“I miss her so much,” Ursula whispered.

“I know,” said Hadrian.

“I feel… I feel like I don’t know her at all.”

There. Ursula had said it. She’d never confessed that feeling before, the feeling that her mother had died when she was so young that the few memories she had were worth very little, because there was so much more she couldn’t remember, so much more she never knew.

“You do,” said Hadrian. “You do. You have what you remember, and you have the parts of her that are in others. Your aunts, your father, and especially you… aren’t all personalities pieces of others?”

“I just wish she was here,” said Ursula. Hadrian said nothing. She looked down, realizing that she had crushed the last flower, and straightened it carefully out, before letting it float across the lake with the other flowers. Then Ursula turned and let herself be enveloped by Hadrian’s arms, his chin resting atop her head.

“I hate him,” said Ursula into Hadrian’s chest after a moment. “I hate what he stole from me. I hate him so much.”

“I know,” said Hadrian, not having to ask who she was referring to.

“Thank you for being here with me,” said Ursula.

“You’re welcome,” said Hadrian. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Ursula stepped back, wiped her eyes, and smiled.

“Alright,” she said, “let’s go up to lunch before the rumors start.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” said Ursula, nodding. “I’m sure.”

~~~

Their exams would end on the day of the third task, which was Friday, June 23rd, so it was safe to say everyone’s nerves were running high. The air was thick with excitement, stress, and anticipation, and many people’s tempers were running equally high. In fact, the first thing that Ursula and Cedric did on their prefect patrol Wednesday night was break up a duel between two fourth years.

“That was unusual,” said Cedric, after they gave both students detention and sent them off to bed.

“Very,” said Ursula in agreement.

“How are your exams going?” said Cedric. As a champion, he was exempt from them.

“Very well, I’d say,” said Ursula. “I only have Ancient Runes and Transfiguration left, the latter of which I’ll have no trouble with.”

“You couldn’t fail Transfiguration if you tried,” said Cedric with a snort. “Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let you.”

“Or you,” said Ursula playfully. “I couldn’t wish for a better Transfiguration partner. You’d better not leave me for anyone else next year. Our NEWTs will be the hardest of all.”

“I’d never abandon you,” said Cedric. “But I still think you’re mad for taking ten NEWTs.”

“You’re probably right about that,” said Ursula. “I just want to do better than well, you know? I want to impress my family.”

“I understand that,” muttered Cedric. “I really want to win to make my family proud — especially my dad. He’s always been so supportive, and it’s always been just the three of us — me, dad, and mum. I really want to win for Hogwarts, and for Hufflepuff, but mostly for my dad.”

“That’s very sweet,” said Ursula, “and I have every confidence that you will win. That said, I’m sure your father is already very proud of you.”

“Well, I’m sure your mum is proud of you, too,” said Cedric. They walked in silence for a moment, before he asked, “Do you really believe I can do it?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “I really do.”

~~~

On Thursday, Ursula had her Ancient Runes exam, and when she came to dinner after it was over, as it had taken place in the afternoon, she noticed some awkwardness between Cassius and Hadrian, who both avoided her gaze and sat as far apart as they could, with Hadrian beside Ursula and Cassius across the table, all the way at the end of their friend group on Gemma’s other side.

“I need to talk to you,” said Cassius urgently into Ursula’s ear, as dinner ended and everyone got up to leave the Great Hall.

“Alright,” said Ursula. “I’m tutoring Casper in ten minutes, so I don’t have long.”

“This won’t take long,” said Cassius. He gripped Ursula’s elbow and steered her out of the Great Hall and into an alcove just off the entrance hall, while the rest of their friends headed down to the Slytherin common room. Hadrian waited awkwardly in the entrance hall.

When they came to a stop away from everyone else, Cassius seemed at a loss for words. He stood there, mouth open, like he didn’t know what to say.

“Well?” prompted Ursula.

“Er… well…” Cassius looked incredibly sheepish. “Hadrian and I… may have… sort of… kissed.”

“Ah,” said Ursula, trying not to smile too wide. “I see. You ‘may have’?”

“We did,” said Cassius. “We were studying in one of the little window alcoves… and then we just sort of… kissed. Please don’t be mad.”

“I assure you, I am the farthest thing from mad,” said Ursula. “And the two of you have my full support. Just don’t let anyone catch you — pick a more private spot next time.”

Cassius blushed.

“I don’t know if there will  _ be _ a next time,” he said. “But —”

“But?”

“But it was a jolly good kiss,” he admitted, and Ursula laughed.

“Right, I think I’d better get to tutoring,” said Ursula.

She crossed the entrance hall towards the library as Cassius went down to the Slytherin common room. Hadrian hurried to Ursula’s side.

“He’s told you then?”

“Yes,” said Ursula. “And you have my full support — I told him that, too. But you  _ have _ to be more careful. Anyone could’ve walked by and seen you.”

“I know, I know, that part was foolish,” said Hadrian. “But you approve?”

“Don’t make me sound like your mother,” said Ursula. “But yes, I approve. Now let me get on; I’m tutoring your cousin and I’m about to be late.”

Ursula headed to the library, where Casper was already waiting at a table near the front.

“Let’s get you ready for your Transfiguration OWL tomorrow,” she said.

“I wouldn’t pass it without your help,” said Casper gratefully.

~~~

The whole school seemed noisier than usual at mealtimes. Rita Skeeter published one more last-ditch article about Harry that called him disturbed and dangerous.

Ursula and the other prefects showed the champions’ families into a chamber off the hall. Cedric’s parents were there, as were Viktor’s, and Fleur’s parents and sister were there, while Harry had Mrs. Weasley and who Ursula presumed to be Bill, as she knew all the other Weasley children.

Ursula passed her own Transfiguration exam the following day without batting an eye, and by the time the evening feast had arrived, the excitement was practically tangible. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, and a great deal of last-minute bets being placed among the raucous chatter. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”

The champions rose to great applause, all looking slightly green. Five minutes later, the rest of the Hall followed them outside to the stands.

The Quidditch field was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. The air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear.

Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick were all wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest. They went to join the champions as Bagman prepared to commentate again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!”

The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. Ursula and the others jumped to their feet, whistling and clapping for their champions. By now, most of the school had gotten over their animosity against Harry, particularly now that he was winning, because it meant that they had two champions in the running, both with a good chance of winning.

“In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!”

More applause. Hadrian whistled, and Vincent and Emil shot sparks into the sky.

“And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!”

When the applause died down, Bagman said, “So… on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” said Bagman. “Three — two — one —”

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze. A giant screen, similar to the one they viewed the second task with, shot into the air, and they watched as Harry and Cedric lit up their wands and headed down separate hedge tunnels, which were black as night. From there, they were represented by glowing dots on the gigantic map of the maze, red for Harry and yellow for Cedric.

Bagman blew his whistle a second time, and Viktor headed into the maze. It was extraordinarily strange to watch the three champions, like tiny flecks of light, turn this way and that along the giant map of the maze.

“Cedric’s found the skrewt!” said Ursula. The last of Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts, a vicious, gigantic male ten feet long with a huge stinger, waited in one of the dead ends. “Oh, I warned him about this.”

But Cedric did marvelously, and his dot of light on the giant screen soon moved on, meeting up with Harry’s and then splitting quickly again. Harry met a Boggart, while a bloodcurdling scream went up from Fleur and red sparks shot out of the maze, marking her position.

“Looks like that’s it for her,” said Lilian, as Fleur came out of the maze looking shaken, and Bagman announced that she had been revived from a spell.

“Looks like she’s been stunned,” said Adrian, though it was quite hard to tell, as high up as they were.

Meanwhile, Harry met the Skrewt while Cedric and Viktor’s dots bumped into each other.

“Oh, what will become of Mr. Diggory and Mr. Krum now that they’ve met?” said Bagman’s voice. Perhaps watching the task like this was not the best idea, as they had no idea exactly what the champions were doing other than what obstacles they faced. “And here comes Mr. Potter!”

They could hear a faint yelling, and then Harry and Cedric moved on. A moment later, red sparks shot out of the maze, and a great groan of disappointment issued from the Durmstrang crowd as Viktor too came limping out of the maze, accompanied by Professor Flitwick.

“Hogwarts is going to win no matter what!” shouted Cassius. The same thought had occurred with many of the students, and a great deal of cheering ensued.

The screen showed Harry meeting the Sphinx, which was the last obstacle before the cup, and at the same time that he got past it, Cedric arrived at the cup from the other side. The Hogwarts students were screaming and cheering, and then they gasped as one when the little dot marked ‘Acromantula’ advanced on Cedric and Harry on the screen.

“Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter have reached the Triwizard Cup!” exclaimed Bagman. “But here comes a hideous Acromantula! Can they beat it?”

Several tense minutes later, the Acromantula was shown moving quickly away from the boys, and the Hogwarts students leapt to their feet and cheered, sure that they would have a winner in a few seconds time.

But that was not the case. No, instead the crowd fell silent, unable to maintain their clapping, as Cedric and Harry’s glowing dots didn’t move on the map of the maze.

The minutes ticked slowly by, with Bagman attempting to maintain his excitement by shouting things like “They must be having quite the duel!” and “Mr. Potter surprised us all!” and “Let’s hear it for Mr. Diggory!”

“It’s been what, twenty minutes now?” said Cassius anxiously.

“Surely they can’t still be duelling,” said Hadrian. “You said Cedric was excellent.”

“He is,” murmured Ursula.

“And I can’t imagine Potter’s as good as he is,” Hadrian continued.

They reached the half hour mark and started to grow restless. Night had fallen by now, and with only the large map of the maze and two glowing dots to show what was going on, they were quite bored.

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best way to show this task,” said Adrian dryly.

“Maybe they didn’t beat the Acromantula,” said Lilian.

“Then why would it walk away?” said Ursula. “They would usually — nevermind.”

“Or maybe they Stunned each other at the same time,” suggested Gemma.

“I hope they’re alright,” said Vanessa worriedly.

At forty-five minutes with no sign of either champion, the judges and teachers went into a huddle to discuss what to do.

“Professor Moody will search the maze!” announced Bagman. “If either of the two remaining champions are harmed, he will let us know!”

Professor Moody set off along the perimeter of the maze, using his magical eye to scan the maze’s depths. For a while all they heard was the rustle of hedges, before he returned, and told Bagman what he saw.

“Professor Moody says Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter are still fighting inside the maze!” Bagman said, with obvious relief. “He says they are locked in a mighty duel, and neither has managed to reach the cup yet!”

Ursula was quite sure Professor Moody wouldn’t have phrased it like that, but she, and everyone else, was pleased to hear that Cedric and Harry were alright. Her wand started to warm in her pocket, and she pulled it out.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hadrian, tapping his foot as he waited.

“Nothing,” said Ursula.

An hour had passed now, with little so much as a shout audible from the maze. Nothing was happening, and the students were beginning to yawn, checking their watches anxiously, when all of a sudden —

Harry and Cedric appeared, slamming onto the ground outside the maze’s entrance, Cedric on his back and Harry on his stomach, clutching the Triwizard Cup.

“YES!” shouted Cassius, leaping to his feet. The rest of Hogwarts followed, indeed even the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang joined in, roaring deafeningly, stamping their feet, whistles and screams and shouts of joy all blending together; Bagman’s words were lost in the thunder of noise. The section of the crowd nearest to the champions pushed their way onto the pitch as Professor Dumbledore ran over to Harry and Cedric, and the wand in Ursula’s hand grew hotter.

And then —

“No,” said Cassius.

The clapping stopped abruptly. Vanessa screamed.

“No!” shouted Lilian.

The crowd gasped as one, and Ursula felt her knees go weak.

“Cedric,” she said, “He’s —”

Students were screaming and sobbing, others silent in shock, all grasping one another as they tried to comprehend the scene below them.

Shouts like “He’s dead!” “He’s  _ dead _ !” “Cedric Diggory!  _ Dead _ !” filled the gaps, rippling through the swaying crowd. Cedric lay flat on his back, unmoving, pale. He was — he was —

“Dead,” gasped Ursula, before she fainted.


	70. Cassiopeia Black

_ March 27th, 1971 _

“It’s almost time,” squealed Cassiopeia, shutting the door behind her. “Oh, Bella, I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“The eldest always marries first,” said Bellatrix smugly.

“Don’t slouch, Bella,” snapped their mother, Druella. “Cassiopeia, help her with her necklace.”

“I’ll do that,” volunteered Narcissa, moving from her place by the windowsill to help Bellatrix clasp the pearl necklace around her neck.

“The guests have all arrived,” said Andromeda, entering the room. “And I’ve checked with the groom, and he’s ready when you are.”

“Is  _ he _ here?” asked Bellatrix. Andromeda pursed her lips.

“Who?” said Cassiopeia.

“The Dark Lord, of course,” said Narcissa, who had returned to the window. “Bella fancies him.”

“Cissy, I do not!” said Bellatrix, though her cheeks had gone pink.

“Nor should you,” said Druella, in a most disapproving tone of voice.

“I admire him, that’s all,” said Bellatrix. “And what he’s doing for purebloods like us.”

Druella nodded in agreement.

“Well, let’s not leave Rodolphus waiting,” she said, standing up and smoothing her dress. “Girls, go downstairs and wait with Rabastan. I want a word with your sister about marriage.”

“Good luck,” said Cassiopeia, giggling.

~~~

_ July 29th, 1972 _

“Andy, where is my —”

Cassiopeia stopped short as the door to her sister’s room banged open, and she saw the unmistakable signs of packing.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut the door,” said Andromeda. “Cassie, shut the door.”

Cassiopeia did as she was told, sniffling as she perched on the edge of Andromeda’s bed, leaning against one of the carved wooden posts.

“What are you doing?” she repeated.

“Packing,” admitted Andromeda after a moment. “I’m leaving.”

“But — but you’re not married!” protested Cassiopeia. “You can’t leave!”

“I’m nineteen, and I very much can,” said Andromeda. “I’m not married yet, but I plan to be. That’s why I’m leaving.”

“Because of Ted?” said Cassiopeia. “That boy who was keen on you at school? The one you made me promise to never tell Mother and Father about?”

“The muggleborn, yes,” said Andromeda, throwing more things into her trunk.

“You can’t marry him!” exclaimed Cassiopeia. Andromeda shushed her. “You’ll be disowned.”

“I’m counting on it,” muttered Andromeda. “And I don’t care. I love him, and he loves me, and we’re getting married. One week from today.”

“You can’t leave,” repeated Cassiopeia, her eyes welling with tears. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“Oh Cassie,” said Andromeda, and she pulled her into a hug. “I’ll still be here for you… just not for anyone else. You just have to be brave, alright? Brave and strong.”

Cassiopeia gulped and nodded, wiping her eyes.

“W-When are you l-leaving?” she asked.

“Tuesday,” said Andromeda.

“Will you tell Mother and F-Father?”

“Not until after I’m married,” said Andromeda. “I’ll tell them that I’m staying with a friend for a few days. Will you come to the wedding?”

Cassiopeia hiccuped.

“Can I?” she said with a gulp.

“I’d love it if you were there,” said Andromeda. “Ask one of the house elves. That new one — Dimsey. He’ll take you, and he won’t tell.”

“A-Alright,” said Cassiopeia.

~~~

_ August 5th, 1972 _

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Cassiopeia cheered as Andromeda and Ted kissed. It was a tiny, private wedding in the garden of her sister’s new home, which was much smaller than anything she was used to. Ted’s parents were there, as were a handful of their friends from school, and little Sirius, who was only twelve.

“How did you get here?” asked Cassiopeia.

“I lied and said I was going to see James,” said Sirius. “His mum Apparated me here.”

“Ah, I see,” said Cassiopeia.

“I’m surprised you’re still associating with the likes of me and your sister,” said Sirius. “Blood traitors, and all that.”

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes.

“She’s my sister,” she said. “And you’re my cousin. Being a Gryffindor doesn’t change that. Being an ickle second year, on the other hand…”

“Shut up,” said Sirius, but he smiled.

“I’m a prefect now, so watch what you say,” warned Cassiopeia. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t tell your parents I was here,” said Sirius.

“I won’t,” promised Cassiopeia. “But it’s not like mine know either.”

She left Sirius beside the refreshment table and went over to congratulate the happy couple.

“How’s the blushing bride?” said Cassiopeia.

“She’s very glad you’re here,” said Andromeda, hugging her.

“Congratulations,” said Cassiopeia, shaking hands with Ted. “To you both. I mean it.”

~~~

_ August 8th, 1972 _

“You WHAT?”

Cassiopeia flinched as her father shouted at Andromeda. She was sitting in the stairwell outside of the drawing room, where Andromeda had just finished telling her parents that she had married a muggleborn.

“A  _ Black _ ? Married to a  _ mudblood _ ?” shrieked Druella. “You have poisoned the House of Black with your filthy, disgusting marriage. Do you care nothing for your family?”

“Do you care about me?” retorted Andromeda.

“How dare you besmirch the name Black?” shouted Cygnus. “You’re worse than a blood traitor. You disgust me.”

“If marrying the man I love disgusts you, then good,” spat Andromeda.

“Have you any self respect?” said Druella.

Cassiopeia sniffed and wiped her eyes with the palm of her hands as Cygnus and Druella argued with Andromeda, their fury practically tangible.

“Andromeda Callidora Black,” said Cygnus, his voice going dangerously quiet. “You are hereby disowned. You are no longer my daughter, or any relative of ours, and you are now trespassing on private property. Leave at once, and do not return.”

“Gladly,” hissed Andromeda. The door to the drawing room slammed in her wake as Andromeda stormed out of Corvus Manor.

“Good riddance,” sneered Bellatrix, who had appeared at the top of the stairs, drawn by the shouting. She and Rodolphus had been visiting all week. “No sister of mine fraternizes with a  _ mudblood _ .”

Narcissa stood beside her in stoic, cold agreement. Cassiopeia burst into tears and ran up the stairs past them.

“You’re better off without her!” called Bellatrix after Cassiopeia. “Sooner or later, Cassie, you’ll learn!”

~~~

_ June 26th, 1973 _

“Hello,” whispered Cassiopeia, cradling the tiny baby in her arms. It was the summer holidays, and Cassiopeia was visiting her newborn niece for the very first time. The baby’s hair changed from mousy brown to flaxen blonde to a wild shade of cobalt blue, before settling on the inky black shade that Cassiopeia’s hair was. “What are you going to call her?”

“Nymphadora,” said Andromeda, smiling and gently rubbing her daughter’s head. “Nymphadora Vulpecula Tonks.”

“Nymphadora Tonks,” echoed Cassiopeia. “Lovely.”

“Her hair’s been changing like that since the moment she was born,” said Ted. He rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “My parents couldn’t believe their eyes.”

“A Metamorphmagus is rare,” said Cassiopeia, “but that makes her all the more special.”

Little Nymphadora gurgled, and both of her parents plus Cassiopeia cooed at her. Cassiopeia handed the baby to Andromeda.

“Meet your aunt Cassiopeia,” whispered Andromeda. “She loves you already.”

~~~

_ December 21st, 1974 _

“Who are my bridesmaids supposed to be?” pouted Cassiopeia, as she tucked flowers into Narcissa’s hair. “You only didn’t pick Bella because she’s married.”

“I picked you because you’re my favorite sister,” said Narcissa fondly. She looked up at Cassiopeia through the mirror on her vanity. “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” said Cassiopeia. “You couldn’t look better, although I’m sure Mother will disagree. I daresay the sight of you will excite your husband-to-be.”

Narcissa blushed, toying with the pearl necklace around her neck.

“Vulgarity is no substitute for wit,” she said.

“Why limit oneself?” retorted Cassiopeia. “I mean it Cissy — you look simply marvelous. I’m sure Lucius will love it — the dress, and more importantly you.”

“I hope so,” murmured Narcissa. “I like him.”

“But… you don’t… love him?”

“I think I will,” said Narcissa. “But we hardly know each other. You’re of age now, Cassie, and you graduate in mere months. When are you going to accept that this is your future too?”

“When I know  _ and _ like who I’m marrying,” said Cassiopeia. “Mother still hasn’t finalized a choice, and courtship is so dreadfully long. Unfortunately, all the Burke boys are married, which is a pity, as they’re so handsome.”

She flopped back onto the bed.

“Sit up,” commanded Narcissa. “You’ll wrinkle your dress and ruin your hair like that.” Cassiopeia did as she was told. “What about Avery, or Selwyn? They’re not so bad. There’s also Antonin Dolohov… that Amycus Carrow likes you, and isn’t Crouch rather keen on you?”

“Amycus Carrow is a pig,” said Cassiopeia definitively. “And poor Barty is far too young for me. Five years is too much of a difference — or, at least, I won’t wait that long. Mother would never let me, and I don’t want to.”

“Well, who’s it going to be?” said Narcissa, turning back to the mirror and inspecting herself once again.

“It’s a pity most of the pureblood boys are already taken,” said Cassiopeia with a sniff. “I suppose I’ll have to be happy with whoever Mother and Father select. Isn’t that what you and Bella are always telling me?”

“Try not to sound like you’re dreading it,” said Narcissa. “It won’t be that bad. I’m glad to marry Lucius.”

“That’s because he likes you,” said Cassiopeia. “Right; let’s get you married.”

~~~

_ June 13th, 1975 _

“A toast!” said Professor Slughorn. “To our seventh years! Particularly our esteemed head girl, Miss Cassiopeia Black!”

Cassiopeia beamed as the room of Slug Club students toasted her. She and the handful of Professor Slughorn’s other favorites were celebrating the end of the year, which for her and several of the others meant they would graduate the following week.

“Our  _ esteemed _ head girl,” teased Ken, a dear friend of Cassiopeia’s whom her parents would never approve of, despite his pureblood stature.

“Oh, shut up,” said Cassiopeia, though she was grinning. “Come on, let’s dance. I don’t want Amycus to ask me.”

“As you wish,” said Ken. He set his drink down, took her hand, and smoothly led her out to the dance floor, successfully blocking several hopeful-looking fellow seventh years.

“Why, this is nice,” said Cassiopeia. “You promised me to write, once we’ve graduated, you know; you had better fulfill your promise.”

“Don’t I always?” said Ken. “Don’t worry — just because I’m moving to America, it doesn’t mean we’ll lose touch. I still think you should become a potioneer.”

“It’s not what my family wants,” said Cassiopeia. “Although Professor Slughorn was dreadfully disappointed when I turned him down.”

“As he should be,” said Ken. “You’re the best in our year. You can’t do everything your family tells you to do, you know. Or at least, you shouldn’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Cassiopeia.

~~~

_ March 12th, 1977 _

“Cassiopeia dear!” called Druella, her voice extra sweet. “You have a visitor!”

“Coming, Mother,” called back Cassiopeia. She hurried down the stairs, her feet slowing as she saw Antonin Dolohov waiting for her at the bottom. Her hands grasped the sides of her skirt and she gave him a small curtsy. Antonin bowed back.

“There’s tea in the library,” said Druella, and then she left.

“Hello,” said Cassiopeia shyly, smiling up at Antonin through her eyelashes. She didn’t like the way his eyes roamed over her — in fact, she didn’t like him at all.

“Hello,” he said. Cassiopeia led him to the library and served tea, crossing one ankle behind the other as she sat down. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You as well,” said Cassiopeia, forcing a smile. “I look forward to seeing more of you in the future.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” purred Antonin.

~~~

_ March 13th, 1977 _

“You picked Dolohov?” said Cassiopeia. She paced back and forth in her mother’s parlor, more than a little upset.

“He comes from a good background with some money,” said Druella stiffly. “He has birth and position, and will make you very comfortable as his wife.”

“I don’t want to be his wife!” said Cassiopeia. “Can’t I do better than him?”

“Everyone wants this marriage,” snapped Druella, lips pursed and eyes glinting dangerously. “Everyone, do you understand?”

“Everyone but me,” murmured Cassiopeia.

“You  _ will _ marry him,” said Druella, turning her back on her youngest daughter. “That is final.”

~~~

_ May 3rd, 1977 _

“Oh, please can I go?” begged Cassiopeia. “Emma is going, and she really wants me to go with her.”

“ _ Emma _ is going because she is getting married,” said Druella. “And while her fiancé is in France, so is she.”

“Which is why she needs me to keep her company!” said Cassiopeia. “Her wedding isn’t until November; that’s months away, and she hardly sees her fiancé anyway, since they’re not married yet. Antonin doesn’t mind; I’ve already asked him.”

“Oh, alright,” said Druella, sighing. “If Antonin has agreed — and if your father agrees, understand?”

“Well, Father?” said Cassiopeia, tapping her foot impatiently. “What do you say?”

“Go if you wish,” said Cygnus finally. “But stay out of trouble while you’re there.”

Cassiopeia squealed.

“Thank you, Father!” she said. Cygnus chuckled, smiling fondly at his youngest.

“You’re welcome, my darling,” he said.

~~~

_ September 2nd, 1977 _

“I’m so glad I came here,” murmured Cassiopeia, her head resting on Ken’s chest. They were lying on a picnic blanket outside, staring up at the blanket of stars above them.

“Me too,” said Ken, running his right hand through her hair. “You’re staying for another month, right? So it’s not over yet.”

“I don’t want to go home,” sighed Cassiopeia. “But I can’t do what Andromeda did. I’m not brave like she is. Besides, it would hurt Mother and Father too much.”

“You’re brave,” protested Ken. “You’re here, aren’t you? You could leave.”

“But could I do it in the middle of a war?” said Cassiopeia. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t think about it now,” said Ken. “Look — the stars are especially beautiful tonight.”

“There’s Orion,” said Cassiopeia, tracing the stars with her fingers. “And Polaris, the North Star.”

“Alright show off,” said Ken.

“You took Astronomy too, Mr. Scamander,” Cassiopeia reminded him.

“Did I?” joked Ken. “Yes, I did. There was only one other person in the class — a shrewd, bubbly Slytherin with a heart of gold and an irritating habit of being right all the time. Do you know her?”

Cassiopeia laughed.

“Yes, I rather think I might,” she said. “I seem to recall there was a dreadfully untidy young man in my class — even after seven years he never learned how to tie a tie. You two would get along.”

“Would we indeed,” said Ken. They resumed their tracing of constellations. “There’s Aquarius… And Taurus… And Canis Major… I’ve always liked that one.”

“Look, there’s Ursa Major,” said Cassiopeia. “That one has always been my favorite.”

“I know it is,” said Ken.

~~~

_ October 21st, 1977 _

Cassiopeia steeled herself, taking a deep breath before she entered the ballroom. She reached for a glass of champagne too late to remember she probably shouldn’t be drinking it. Oh well. She scanned the ballroom, all of the familiar faces mixing together, and her eyes landed on her betrothed.

Antonin’s proposal hadn’t been anything special. It wasn’t poetic or meaningful or a confession of love like Cassiopeia believed a proposal should be. He hadn’t even kneeled for her.

Cassiopeia set her full glass on the nearest table, catching sight of her engagement ring. Even the ring was hideous.

Antonin had all the ability to be a proper gentleman. He had money, and status, and was somewhat handsome, even if his face was usually twisted into some sort of awful sneer. He was one of the Dark Lord’s top Death Eaters. Cassiopeia wondered faintly if her job as his wife was meant to make him into a better man.

He jerked his head meaningfully as she held his gaze, and she took the hint. She glided smoothly over to him, past dancing couples, and arrived at his side.

“There you are,” he murmured, putting a hand on her waist. “I was starting to wonder if you got lost.”

Cassiopeia smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes, even as it made her feel nauseous. Now that they were together, it was time for her father to make the official pronouncement. The room fell silent as Cygnus prepared to speak.

“My beautiful wife Druella and I are so pleased to announce the engagement of our youngest daughter, the lady Cassiopeia Lucretia Black, and the honorable Antonin Tobias Dolohov,” said Cygnus. “Please join us in wishing the happy couple a long and fulfilling marriage.”

Cassiopeia smiled demurely as the crowd applauded, raising their glasses to her and her fiancé. She knew then, even as she stood there with his hand on her waist, even as she had doubted her bravery before entering the ballroom, that she had to leave. Both for her own safety, and that of her unborn baby’s.

~~~

_ December 29th, 1977 _

Cassiopeia stared at her reflection, tracing the neckline of her deep green dress. The color suited her wonderfully, and the dress was magnificent. Antonin had gone home, and her parents had gone up to bed. One glance at the ticking clock on her bedside told her that no one would be awake at this hour, which was just what she wanted.

With a wave of her wand, Cassiopeia sent all of her most important possessions into her old trunk, which was fitted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. She couldn’t imagine she would have much use for evening gowns, but a few of her favorites she just couldn’t part with. And her jewelry, of course, she could sell it if it came to that, although she had quite enough money that she was sure she wouldn’t need to.

Cassiopeia lifted her trunk with a wave of her wand, closing the curtains and turning off the lights in her room. She took one last look around her room, then crept down the silent hallway and down the stairs, being careful to miss the creaky floorboards where she knew they were.

Sneaking away like a thief in the night was not usually Cassiopeia’s style, but it  _ was _ the only way she could get away without being seen or stopped.

It had been snowing all day, and it blanketed Corvus Manor. Cassiopeia turned around on the front steps of her home, looking up at the dark, peaceful mansion as a sort of goodbye. Then she seized the handle of her trunk, spun on the spot, and Disapparated.

Cassiopeia arrived at the end of a cobblestone street, on the corner of a small, snow-covered park. She walked quickly through the snow, illuminated by the light of the streetlamps, trunk aloft and chin tucked into a warm scarf. She hoped none of the Muggles in the neighborhood were looking out of their windows, but it was so late at night that she doubted they would be. Her footprints were disguised by the dozens of others that had stamped down the once-clean snow.

She turned a corner, and saw the little brick house in the middle of the street with the little fenced garden in the back. Her steps quickened.

The lights were out in the kitchen window, and the curtains were drawn, but Cassiopeia hurried up to the front steps and knocked quickly on the door.

For a long moment, there was no answer, and then a fair-haired, sleepy man opened the door.

“Er — Cassiopeia?” Ted said, bemused.

“Who is it?” called Andromeda from deeper in the house.

“You’d better come in,” said Ted, and he picked up her trunk and carried it in for her.

~~~

_ May 14th, 1978 _

Cassiopeia was exhausted, her hair plastered to her face. She felt weak and hungry. But it was all worth it, for the little bundle of joy she held in her arms.

“Hello my darling,” she whispered, cradling her newborn daughter. “My dearest, my most precious darling.”

“You know,” said Andromeda, bringing in a tray of breakfast, “today is Mother’s Day. What a strange coincidence.”

“Did Nymphadora do anything special for you?” asked Cassiopeia, with a tired laugh.

“She burned an entire stack of pancakes,” said Andromeda lovingly. “Ted’s helping her clean up now.”

“I can’t believe she’s almost five,” said Cassiopeia.

“They grow up so fast,” said Andromeda in agreement. “Before long, you’ll be sending this one off to Hogwarts. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Ursula,” said Cassiopeia. “I’m going to call her Ursula Cassiopeia Black.”

~~~

_ May 14th, 1978 _

“Can this hot and dusty traveler come in?”

Cassiopeia looked up to see Ken standing in the doorway. She grinned at him.

“He can,” she said. “Would you like to meet your daughter?”

Ken nodded excitedly, dropping his hat and bag on a chair. Cassiopeia lifted Ursula out of her cradle and set her in Ken’s arms.

“This is Ursula,” she said.

“Hello little one,” he whispered, sinking into the nearest chair and rocking her gently back and forth. “She’s perfect.”

Ursula was awake, but she didn’t cry or scream as her father held her. She stared up at him with large eyes, and wrapped her tiny baby fingers around his finger.

“We need to talk. I’d like to write a will,” said Cassiopeia. “Can you stay for a few days?”

“Of course,” said Ken. “I can stay for as long as you’d like. Do you want to talk now?”

“No,” said Cassiopeia, smiling at him and their daughter. “No, now I want to admire our little bundle of joy.”

“Do you think she knows how loved she is?” said Ken. “Or how much joy she brings in this moment?”

“No,” said Cassiopeia, stroking Ursula’s head. “But she will.”

~~~

_ May 12th, 1979 _

Cassiopeia set Ursula on the soft, dewy grass. Nearly a year old, she had begun to walk, and Cassiopeia had decided to take her on an outing. They spent so much time in one apartment or another — Cassiopeia owned three, one in Diagon Alley and two in Muggle London — that Cassiopeia took her daughter to the park as often as she could.

Cassiopeia laughed as her daughter wobbled, failing to stay upright on her little legs.

“Come on Ursa! That’s it, my darling dearest!”

Cassiopeia set Ursula back on her feet. A butterfly floated past, and Ursula took a step, and then another, stretching her chubby hands out to meet it. She had curly black hair and grey eyes like her mother, and was such a smiling, happy child that strangers often stopped to tell Cassiopeia how sweet she was. Ursula giggled.

“Just a few more steps!” said Cassiopeia

She knelt, holding her arms out, encouraging Ursula to come to her. Cassiopeia tucked her hair back behind one ear, and pulled out her wand.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ !” she said, and her silvery calico cat Patronus bounded past Ursula, encouraging her little legs to move faster as she followed it, giggling, back to her mother.

“Well done, Ursa!” said Cassiopeia. “Come to mum!”

The Patronus disappeared as Cassiopeia picked up her daughter, laughing and smiling and feeling so proud.

“My darling dearest,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”

~~~

_ May 14th, 1979 _

“Blow out the candle!” said Cassiopeia, setting a cupcake in front of her daughter.

“Mama!” said Ursula excitedly, clapping her hands.

Ken waited with a camera as their daughter blew out the single candle on her pink cupcake. It was her first birthday, and Cassiopeia wished they could’ve gone to celebrate with Andromeda, but it was too dangerous.

“Good job, little one!” said Ken, tugging gently on her pigtails.

“Dada!” giggled Ursula.

“Open your gift,” said Cassiopeia, setting a neatly wrapped package in front of Ursula. Ken helped her, and soon Ursula was holding a stuffed bear, with soft black fur. She squished it happily.

“Do you know what that is?” asked Ken.

“Bear!” said Ursula excitedly. “Bear!”

“Yes my darling, it’s a bear,” said Cassiopeia, swooping down to give her a kiss. “Happy birthday.”

~~~

_ June 4th, 1980 _

“How much longer is this war going to last?” murmured Cassiopeia. She was talking to no one but herself, staring out the window of her tiny flat, as her daughter played on the floor beside her.

She couldn’t believe Ursula was two years old already.  _ Two years _ . Cassiopeia had been living in her different apartments for two years. She called it living, but some days, she knew she was hiding out. She just wanted to make it to the end of the war, when she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder at every turn and move here and there just to keep herself and, more importantly, her daughter safe.

Cassiopeia knew hiding in plain sight was her best option. She could’ve gone away, moved to America or something. She probably should have. But Britain was her home, even if Corvus Manor no longer was, and she had to stay, to help where she could.

And she knew Antonin was looking for her, but he’d never expect to find her in Muggle London. That kept her safe. No one expected her to be so foolish as to live where anyone might see her, so that was exactly what she did.

It seemed as if this war had been going on for nearly her whole life. Every day, new deaths were reported in the paper, people she had known and liked and talked to, even loved, who had not survived this war.

Her cousin, her beloved cousin, who was so, so young, had died. Regulus Black’s death wasn’t in the paper. Cassiopeia hadn’t been able to go to his funeral.

She wondered how long she could keep running. She wondered if or when she would be found. She had a plan to keep Ursula safe, but she wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to do it.

“Mummy sad?” said Ursula, setting her stuffed bear in her mother’s lap. She was walking well now, and talking in short sentences.

“No, my darling, Mummy is not sad,” said Cassiopeia, smiling and pulling her into her lap. “Mummy is happy because she has you.”

~~~

_ June 19th, 1980 _

The day had started so well. Cassiopeia had cooked breakfast, and then she and Ursula had played in the park. But then, Cassiopeia had started to get a bad feeling. One she couldn’t run from.

She put away the plates they had eaten their lunch on. Then she removed her pearl necklace, which she had worn nearly every day since she’d left, and set it on her desk, in front of her collection of pictures.

“My darling,” she whispered, scooping Ursula into her arms. “My darling, you must promise me something.”

Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding. Ursula stared up at her with wide grey eyes, without a clue as to what was happening.

“My dearest Ursa, you must promise me to stay very quiet,” she said. She opened her wardrobe, setting Ursula inside. She picked up her stuffed bear and handed it to her. “You must promise me not to come out, not to make a sound. Can you promise me that, my dearest Ursula?”

It was too late to Apparate, too late to flee. He had found her.

“Yes Mummy,” said Ursula, staring at her with confusion in her eyes.

“Always remember, my darling,” whispered Cassiopeia, “that I love you. Mummy loves you more than anything else, alright? I will always love you. Remember that, please, remember me and my love for you.”

She knelt, pressing a kiss to Ursula’s forehead, and tried not to cry.

“Mummy loves you,” she whispered, shutting the wardrobe with shaking hands. “My darling dearest.”

Cassiopeia picked up her wand. She steeled herself. The door was locked, but that wouldn’t matter.

“I love you, my darling dearest,” she said. Ursula made no sound, just as she had been told. “Mummy loves you.”

And then the door was blasted off its hinges.


	71. Numb

Hadrian eased Ursula into a sitting position, but she didn’t care that she’d fainted. Cedric… Cedric couldn’t possibly be dead. He was so prepared, so smart… and so, so young. She dug her nails into her palms in an effort to feel something, anything. But she just felt numb.

“Your wand,” murmured Hadrian.

“What about it?” said Ursula bitterly.

“Isn’t it… isn’t it hurting your hand?” asked Hadrian gently. Ursula looked down.

Her wand was hot, hotter than it had ever been before, so hot it was smoking. It left a burn mark on her hand. She could barely feel it through her shock.

Ursula looked down at the Quidditch Pitch, where Cedric’s parents were running out to meet Professor Dumbledore, Fudge and the Hogwarts professors were crowded around Cedric, and Harry was being led away by Professor Moody.

Ursula gasped and dropped her wand as the heat intensified further. Her hand stung. She scrambled to pick up her wand. Suddenly, the dots connected and she turned to push past her friends.

“Let me go!” said Ursula, as Hadrian and Cassius tried to hold her back.

“Ursula…” said Hadrian. “There’s… there’s nothing you can do.”

“I need to see Professor McGonagall!” said Ursula. She wriggled free and hurried down the stairs of the stands, her heart racing. She pushed through the crowd on the pitch as Harry and Professor Moody disappeared into the castle.

_ Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look… _

But Ursula couldn’t help it. She saw Cedric… his body… and reeled back. His eyes were so… empty. Then the crowd closed in front of her.

“Ms. Black?” said Professor McGonagall. She looked stunned, though her voice was stern.

“My wand…” said Ursula. “Er — my wand can sense danger. And when — when I saw Professor Moody leave with Harry Potter… well…”

She showed Professor McGonagall the burn on her hand and her wand, which was smoking and burning hot. Professor McGonagall paled and her eyebrows shot up.

“Wait here,” she said. She returned a moment later with Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape on his heels. Ursula repeated her story and handed Professor Dumbledore her wand. His brow furrowed.

“Follow me,” he said, handing her back her wand. Unsure if he meant her too, Ursula followed behind the professors at Professor McGonagall’s urging. There was cold fury on Professor Dumbledore’s face, an expression unlike any she’d ever seen before.

Professor Dumbledore walked quickly through the halls of Hogwarts, the sound of the grieving crowd fading away as they crossed through the stone corridors. They reached the second floor, then Professor Moody’s office.

“ _ Stupefy _ !” roared Professor Dumbledore, blasting through the door. Through the splintered remains, Ursula saw Professor Moody thrown backwards onto the floor, and Harry staring at them through Professor Moody’s Foe Glass. Ursula’s wand burned as she looked down at Professor Moody, but she didn’t let go. At least she felt something.

Professor Dumbledore stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody’s unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Ursula knew this couldn’t be the real Moody. Professor Snape followed, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room. Professor McGonagall went straight to Harry.

“Come along, Potter,” she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. “Come along… hospital wing…”

Ursula’s prefect instincts kicked in, and she helped Harry to the doorway.

“No,” said Professor Dumbledore sharply.

“Professor Dumbledore, he ought to — look at him — he’s been through enough tonight —”

“He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand,” said Professor Dumbledore curtly. “Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why.”

“Moody,” Harry said. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. “How can it have been Moody?”

“This is not Alastor Moody,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly. “You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. Ms. Black’s wand sensed the danger you were in, and she had the foresight to alert me at once. I am ashamed to have not realized the danger you were in myself.”

“What?” said Harry. Professor Dumbledore turned to Ursula, gesturing for her wand, which she handed over. He pointed the wand at the fake Moody, and it began to smoke.

“Am I right in my assumption that this wand has a thunderbird tail feather core?” said Professor Dumbledore, handing the burning wand back to its owner, who took it without flinching. Ursula nodded. “Thunderbirds can sense danger, Harry. Ms. Black’s wand does the same.”

Professor Dumbledore bent down over the fake Moody’s limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out his hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.

“Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid’s house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here.”

If either Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Ursula stood there awkwardly, one hand on Harry’s shoulder. Professor Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spellbooks. Professor Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneakoscopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak.

Professor Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk, and each time revealing different contents. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.

Ursula looked down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing.

Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Professor Moody. He bent over him.

“Stunned — controlled by the Imperius Curse — very weak,” he said. “Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Ms. Black, throw down the imposter’s cloak — he’s freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger.”

Ursula tore the cloak away from the fake Moody and tossed it down to Professor Dumbledore. He covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

“Polyjuice Potion,” said Professor Dumbledore. “You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he’s well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair…”

Professor Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk.

“The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done… on the hour… every hour… We shall see.”

Professor Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Minutes passed in silence…

“Er — Professor Dumbledore?” piped up Ursula. Professor Dumbledore looked up like he had forgotten she was there.

“Yes, Ms. Black?” he said.

“Might someone send a message to my cousin, Nymphadora Tonks?” she said. “She knows the real Moody well, and she might be able to bring him some things?”

“Excellent idea,” said Professor Dumbledore. “You may send her a Patronus.”

“I don’t —”

“Ah, of course,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Cast the spell and add ‘verbis meis’ to make the Patronus speak.”

Ursula nodded and stepped out into the hall. She felt drained, tired and sad, her shock at Cedric’s death numbing her reaction to everything else. She cast her Patronus — it took a couple of tries — and sent the message to Tonks to come by tomorrow. When she reentered the room, the fake Moody had been replaced by… Barty Crouch Jr.

She couldn’t believe it. He should be dead. But she knew his face, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. She knew the faces of all the Death Eaters.

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Professor Snape had returned with Winky the house elf at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.

“Crouch!” Professor Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. “Barty Crouch!”

“Good heavens,” said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Professor Snape’s legs. Ursula wondered vaguely if she had been Barty Crouch Snr’s house elf. Winky’s mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

“Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?”

She flung herself forward onto Crouch’s chest.

“You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master’s son!”

“He is simply Stunned, Winky,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?”

ProfessorSnape handed Professor Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid; it was obviously Veritaserum. Professor Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were still glaring down upon them all. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Professor Dumbledore forced Crouch’s mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at Crouch’s chest and said, “ _ Rennervate _ .”

Crouch’s son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Professor Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

“Can you hear me?” Professor Dumbledore asked quietly.

Crouch’s eyelids flickered.

“Yes,” he muttered. His eyes flicked past Professor Dumbledore, to the other professors, to Harry, and to Ursula. “You… You look just like Cassiopeia.”

“Don’t talk to her,” said Professor McGonagall in a furious, hushed voice. She pushed Ursula behind her.

“I would like you to tell us,” said Professor Dumbledore softly, “how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?”

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

“My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother’s hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other’s appearance.”

Winky was shaking her head, trembling.

“Say no more, Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!”

But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.

“The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.”

Ursula barely breathed. So this was how he had done it.

“My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me.”

Crouch’s eyelids flickered again.

“And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?” said Professor Dumbledore quietly.

“Staged my mother’s death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master… of returning to his service.”

“How did your father subdue you?” said Professor Dumbledore.

“The Imperius Curse,” Crouch said. “I was under my father’s control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior.”

“Master Barty, Master Barty,” sobbed Winky through her hands. “You isn’t ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble…”

“Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?” said Professor Dumbledore softly. “Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?”

“Yes,” said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. “A witch in my father’s office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father’s signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she’d found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently.”

“Why is she coming to nose into my master’s private business?” sobbed Winky. “Why isn’t she leaving us be?”

“Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup,” said Professor Dumbledore.

“Winky talked my father into it,” said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. “She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.”

It was slightly terrifying to see this man, who had only been a boy in You-Know-Who’s service, retell his life like this.

“It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.”

Crouch looked briefly at Winky, then back at Professor Dumbledore. His eyelids flickered.

“But Winky didn’t know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father’s Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy’s pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn’t know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden.”

“Master Barty, you bad boy!” whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.

“So you took the wand,” said Professor Dumbledore, “and what did you do with it?”

“We went back to the tent,” said Crouch. “Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky.”

Ursula felt faint. The terror at the World Cup… it was nothing to what might happen.

“Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned. “When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape.”

Winky let out a wail of despair.

“Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then… and then…” Crouch’s head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. “My master came for me.”

Ursula shivered. She was glad to be behind Professor McGonagall now.

“He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant — perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door.”

The smile spread wider over Crouch’s face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky’s petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.

“It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn’t been in years.”

“And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?” said Professor Dumbledore.

“He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first —”

“You needed Alastor Moody,” said Professor Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

“Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody’s double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody’s clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it.”

“And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?” said Professor Dumbledore. “Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father’s house, and to keep watch over my father.”

“But your father escaped,” said Professor Dumbledore.

“Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban. My master sent me word of my father’s escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything.”

“Map?” said Professor Dumbledore quickly. Ursula looked sideways at Harry. “What map is this?”

“Potter’s map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape’s office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape.”

Professor Snape’s lip curled.

“For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father.”

“Noooo!” wailed Winky. “Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?”

“You killed your father,” Professor Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. “What did you do with the body?”

“Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come. Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father’s body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father’s body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid’s cabin.”

There was complete silence now, except for Winky’s continued sobs. Then Professor Dumbledore said, “And tonight…”

“I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner,” whispered Barty Crouch. “Turned it into a Portkey. My master’s plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards.” He looked again at Ursula, who paled further. “You could be too… you could be what Cassiopeia failed to be.”

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side. Ursula felt repulsed, and horrified, but most of all… numb.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?”

“Of course,” said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

“Severus —” Professor Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape “— please take Ms. Black to the Hospital Wing and tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour’s time if he needs me. Ms. Black —”

He looked at Ursula, and kindness returned to his eyes.

“— if you would be kind enough not to tell your classmates what you heard,” he said softly. She nodded, eyes wide, numb to the burn on her right hand. “Oh, and I think fifty points to Slytherin is owed, for what you have prevented tonight.”

Ursula followed Professor Snape as he swept silently from the room, keeping her head bowed as she followed him to the Hospital Wing. He spoke in hushed tones with Madam Pomfrey, while Ursula sat on one of the cots.

“Alright dearie,” said Madam Pomfrey. Her voice was shaky and she had clearly been crying. “Here’s something to ease the pain. I’ll be back in a bit, and then I’ll fix that hand of yours.”

She bustled out of the Hospital Wing, leaving Ursula alone. Her wand wasn’t hot anymore, and she set it on the nightstand. She felt more empty than when her grandfather died.

Ursula wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, or break something, because this all felt so, so wrong. Professor Moody should’ve been real, what happened in the maze never should have happened, and most of all, Cedric should be here. They should be celebrating his victory, or a Hogwarts victory, but they should be celebrating. Ursula wanted to cry, but the  _ wrongness _ of it all meant her tears just wouldn’t flow.

Madam Pomfrey soon returned, carrying the real Alastor Moody on an invisible stretcher behind her. Ursula didn’t care how long she had to wait, as her shock masked her pain better than the pain relief potion. She sat on her cot at the other end of the room as the door opened, and nearly half of the Weasley family entered, plus Hermione Granger.

“I’ll just be a moment more, love,” said Madam Pomfrey, patting Ursula’s knee. She sighed and went to deal with the Weasleys and Hermione, who were demanding to know where Harry was.

The door to the Hospital Wing opened, and in came Professor Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and a great black dog. Ursula turned her back on them and put her head in her hands, trying to breathe slowly to calm herself down.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey came over to Ursula, healed her hand in a trice, with a tap of her wand and a soothing cream, and wrapped a bandage around the wound.

“Would you like to stay the night?” she asked kindly.

“No, thank you,” said Ursula.

The Weasleys — Ron, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley — and Hermione had settled around Harry’s bed, but the big black dog padded softly over to her and put his head in her hands before she could get up. Ursula was too emotionally drained to wonder what a dog was doing in the Hospital Wing, so she just pet his soft ears gratefully before leaving.

The common room was packed when she arrived, but dead silent. Everyone had drawn, shocked, tired faces, and more than a few were hunched over in silent tears.

Cassius enveloped Ursula in a hug the moment she stepped through the passageway, squeezing her tightly and shaking a little. She patted his back and let herself be held for the moment, his chest like a curtain blocking her from view from the rest of the world.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. His eyes were puffy and red.

“I’m okay,” said Ursula quietly. She wasn’t, and he knew it. Cassius was far from okay either. None of them were okay, because Cedric was gone. “Come sit down.”

She helped Cassius to a seat and Lilian joined them, and the two girls sat curled up on either side of Cassius, their heads resting on his shoulders.

“I can’t believe it,” said Lilian, her voice hushed. “I just… I can’t believe it.”

“I don’t want to believe it,” whispered Ursula. “Cedric… He…”

But saying his voice had unleashed the gates, and once the first tear rolled down her cheeks, more followed, until she was sobbing into Cassius’s shoulder and he was crying, an arm around her shoulders, and Lilian was in tears and they were all crying together.

~~~

A letter arrived for Ursula, at breakfast the next morning. Professor Dumbledore had stood up at the beginning to ask that no one badgered Harry or asked him any questions about what happened in the maze and that he simply be left alone. Ursula had gone to the Hospital Wing beforehand, to visit Tonks, who had arrived with some things for Moody, and to get the bandages on her hand removed.

Ursula was given the scroll by Casper Rowle, and Hadrian thanked him as Ursula unfurled it.

“It’s from Professor Dumbledore,” she said hollowly. “He wants to meet with me.”

“Shall I go with you?” said Hadrian. He seemed hesitant to leave her side.

“No,” said Ursula. “No, thank you.”

Ursula headed upstairs to Professor Dumbledore’s office, entirely unsure as to what he wanted to meet with her about and still very fragile. She said the password to the stone gargoyle guarding his office and it sprang aside, then she went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door.

“Enter,” said Professor Dumbledore’s muffled voice before she could knock. Ursula entered, sitting timidly in the proffered chair in front of his desk. “Hello Ms. Black.”

“Hello sir,” she said.

“I assume you are wondering why I asked you here,” said Professor Dumbledore, “in which case, I shall get right to it. Last night, Barty Crouch Jr. was given the Dementor’s Kiss on the Minister’s orders, despite the objections of myself and Professor McGonagall.”

“I see,” said Ursula. Professor Dumbledore surveyed her over the top of his half moon spectacles, but the look of shock he was looking for never flitted across her face. He got nothing but a slight glance down to still her shaking hands.

“The Minister has ended an old bloodline,” said Professor Dumbledore, “without so much as a second thought.”

“No, Professor, he hasn’t,” said Ursula. “Er — ended a bloodline, I mean.” Professor Dumbledore motioned for her to continue. “Barty Crouch Snr’s older brother Casper married Charis Black, my great-grandfather’s first cousin. They had three children, I believe. The eldest, Mariane, married Pierre Lestrange.”

“Rodolphus and Rabastan’s brother?”

Ursula nodded.

“Yes, him. Their children go to Beauxbatons. Their son sent his children to Durmstrang, and their youngest daughter married into the Shafiq family,” she said. “Henry is a second year and Charles starts here in the fall.”

“It is because of information like that that I asked you here,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Ms. Black, Lord Voldemort has risen.”

The room spun for a moment.

“The Ministry will no doubt do everything they can to deny it, but I do not doubt that it is true,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I am telling you now because I hope to ask for your help.”

“Mine, sir?” said Ursula, surprised.

“Yes,” said Professor Dumbledore. “You see, you, Ms. Black, are uniquely positioned to share information. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I would expect your family to be in Voldemort’s innermost circle. Your aunt, I know, does not bear the Dark Mark on her arm, despite being privy to the most sensitive information during the first war. Based upon your familiarity with Nymphadora Tonks, my suspicions that you were, shall we say… more  _ open-minded _ than some in your family were confirmed.”

“I see,” said Ursula again. “What exactly would I be required to do? If I were to agree, that is.”

“Rest assured that you are not required to do anything,” said Professor Dumbledore. “But, should you be willing to help our cause, you would provide information, when you can, about Lord Voldemort’s plans, and the actions of his followers. You could even share information from the first war that might prove useful. Whatever you are willing and able to do, Ms. Black, would be of the utmost importance.”

Ursula said nothing. Her mind raced with possibilities. She chose her next words carefully.

“If I agree,” she said slowly, “what happens next?”

“Very little, for the time being, until Voldemort makes himself known,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I myself do not know his plans or who he chooses to share them with at this time, but at some point, likely soon, he will show himself to all those who were once loyal to him. I would ask that you share any information you can, anything at all, that would aid the fight against him.”

Ursula nodded and said nothing. Professor Dumbledore spoke with a little extra kindness in his voice.

“What I am asking you to do is not easy,” he said. “Nor will I force you to accept or be angry if you refuse. You will, of course, be offered protection, as will your friends and family. We can keep them safe. A war is coming, Ms. Black. And we need all the help we can get.”

“I’ll think about it, Professor,” said Ursula. “As you say, he may not even contact my family.”

They both knew that was a lie. Professor Dumbledore gave her a sad smile.

“Of course,” he said. “Have a good summer, Ms. Black.”

~~~

The Hogwarts Leaving Feast was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced, but this year, there was nothing to celebrate. Ursula saw that the usual decorations were missing when she entered the Great Hall for dinner. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House’s colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers’ table. She knew at once that it was a sign of respect for Cedric, and the thought made her tear up.

All of the sixth years had been a bit weepy during the last week of term, as they had known Cedric best. The feast would no doubt be incredibly solemn, as it should be.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Ursula couldn’t blame him; Moody’s fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk.

Karkaroff had vanished after the third task. Ursula knew he’d fled, and wondered how long it would be before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named caught up with him. Bagman was gone too; he had been cornered by some goblins after the match and had fled in a panic.

Professor Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

“The end,” said Professor Dumbledore, looking around at them all, “of another year.”

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

“There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,” said Professor Dumbledore, “but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,” he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, “enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.”

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, “ _ Cedric Diggory _ .”

“Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.”

Ursula thought about what Professor Dumbledore had asked her. She didn’t think she was brave enough to do it.

“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Professor Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

“The Ministry of Magic,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory.”

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now… or almost every face. A few of the Slytherins had begun to whisper, and Ursula silenced them with nasty looks.

“There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric’s death,” Professor Dumbledore went on. “I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter.”

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry’s direction before flicking back to face Professor Dumbledore.

“Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort,” said Professor Dumbledore. “He risked his own life to return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him.”

Professor Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric’s, and drank to him. Though Ursula and her friends stood, many of the other Slytherins remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Professor Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Professor Dumbledore continued, “The Triwizard Tournament’s aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort’s return — such ties are more important than ever before.”

Professor Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Viktor, beside Hadrian, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh. Ursula patted him on the arm.

“Every guest in this Hall,” said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, “will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.”

Ursula leaned back against Hadrian, needing the comfort and reassurance that he brought her. The Slytherins, she thought, particularly the purebloods, understood better than anyone else in the Hall of the dangers that they were facing.

“It is my belief — and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.”

So many children had suffered the effects of the first war, Ursula included, and she shuddered to think what they’d be rushed into the second time, particularly her fellow Slytherins.

“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”

“For Cedric,” Ursula whispered. She made her choice. She would do everything she could to fight against Voldemort. She would fight for Cedric’s memory, which was all of him that she had left.

~~~

“Since Karkaroff stayed in his cabin the whole time anyway, it won’t matter that he’s not with us,” said Hadrian brightly, as Ursula walked with him down to the ship, where the Durmstrang students were boarding and preparing to sail. Under the watchful eye of his classmates, Hadrian bent down to kiss Ursula.

“Have fun at graduation,” said Ursula, when they broke apart. “When do you start your new job?”

“In two weeks,” said Hadrian. “Do you know Julius Burke? He’s the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and my new boss.”

“I’ve met him,” said Ursula. “He’s strict, but straightforward. I met him at his daughter’s wedding last year. I think you’ll be in good shape to be his assistant.”

“I have a preliminary interview, but I’ve already got the job,” said Hadrian. “Oh, and Cassius and I start hit wizard training next week.”

Ursula frowned.

“I still don’t like that,” she said. “Have you two talked at all since…?”

“No,” said Hadrian, shaking his head. “I had something planned for after the third task, but, well…”

“Yeah,” said Ursula. She looked down at her feet. “Why don’t you come for tea? How about Wednesday?”

“I’d love to,” said Hadrian. “And Mother will be thrilled…”

Ursula bid him goodbye and headed back up towards the front of the castle, where the carriages were due to arrive at any moment. The graduation ceremony had nearly finished, although she imagined it was much more subdued than usual.

“There you are!” called Lilian from one of the thestral-drawn carriages that had just pulled up. “Quick, ride with us!”

Ursula hopped into carriage, grinning for the first time in a week. The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King’s Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Ursula and her friends found a compartment near the front of the train to themselves.

Near the end of the train ride, Ursula pulled a packet of papers from her trunk and stood to leave.

“Where are you going?” asked Adrian.

“Not to patrol, I hope?” said Cassius.

“No, no,” said Ursula. “I just have a bit of business to attend to before we reach the station.”

“How mysterious,” said Lilian with a wink.

Ursula left her compartment and strolled down the train corridor, which were slightly emptier than usual. Eventually she found Fred and George, sitting in a compartment playing Exploding Snap with Lee and Rue.

“Hello,” she said, poking her head into their compartment just as the cards blew up in Lee’s face. “Fred, George, could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure,” said Fred, and they got up and followed her into the train corridor. “What’s up?”

“Is this about what we did to Draco?” asked George. Fred thumped him on the back. Ursula’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you do to Draco?” she asked suspiciously. Fred and George avoided making eye contact. “Nevermind.”

Ursula glanced at the window, noticing that they were almost to the platform. She would have to talk quickly.

“Here,” she said, handing them the document she had pulled from her trunk. “I wanted to give you this.”

“What is it?” asked Fred, taking the document from her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“A document of sale,” said Ursula. “You’ll need a building, won’t you? For your joke shop?”

Both twins stared at her, slack-jawed with shock.

“Blimey Ursula,” said Fred. “But… how?”

“I own a flat in Diagon Alley,” said Ursula. “Or owned; it’ll be yours once you sign these papers. Anyway, the shop underneath it closed around Christmas, so I bought the building, which I’m trying to give you right now.”

“You don’t have to do this,” protested George. “It’s yours. And it must have cost a fortune.”

Ursula shrugged.

“It didn’t cost much, and I’ll make up the loss in no time,” she said. “Besides, I want to.”

“We’ll have to pay you,” insisted Fred.

“Yeah,” said George. Reality seemed to slowly be setting in for them both. “We, er, recently came into some money. How much is it?”

“How much money?” said Ursula.

“A lot,” said Fred. “A thousand galleons. Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings.”

“Hmm,” said Ursula. “How does four hundred galleons sound?”

“Surely it’s worth more than that,” argued Fred dubiously.

“Consider it a discount,” said Ursula. “If you don’t agree, I’ll give it to you for free and then you’ll  _ really _ feel guilty.”

They agreed. Ursula could see that their doubt and shock was wearing off, to be replaced by broad grins. She held out a quill.

“Sign here,” she said. “And here.”

“We owe you,” said George, as Fred passed him the document to sign.

“You’ll have free Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes products for life,” promised Fred.

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “You deserve it. Will you be able to visit Diagon Alley sometime over the summer? I can show you the building and you can pay me then.”

“We’ll find a way,” said George.

“Owl me, yeah?” said Ursula.

“Thank you so much, Ursula,” said Fred. There was an odd emotion in his eyes, and it wasn’t just gratitude. George clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him back into their compartment.

Still grinning, Ursula figured she should probably figure out what happened to Draco. She found him near the end of the train, along with Crabbe and Goyle, just as the train pulled into the station. They had clearly been hit with a mixture of jinxes, including the Furnunculus Curse and the Jelly-Legs Jinx. Ursula spied Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the nearest compartment, who didn’t look the least bit remorseful.

“What did you do to deserve this, I wonder?” she mused lightly as she reversed all the hexes and helped Draco to his feet.

“What makes you think I deserved it?” huffed Draco, scowling.

“Because I’m worried about you,” answered Ursula.

She left him to find his trunk and went to get her own. Dimsey was waiting, a little ways away from Narcissa and Lucius. When Ursula saw her uncle, all of the numbness she had felt after Cedric’s death was replaced by a wash of rage, and she struggled to control herself.

“Uncle Lucius,” she said. “When we return to Malfoy Manor, I would like a private word with you.”

“Of course,” said Lucius, looking unperturbed.

Ursula could hardly wait until they were alone in the drawing room to confront him. She began to voice her question, but found no sound came out, and tried again.

“I have to ask,” she said, her voice trembling. “Were you there?”

“Ursula, I —”

“Were you there?” she repeated. Lucius eyed her unflinchingly.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I was.”

“Before or after?”

“After,” he said.

“And… did you know?” Her voice was dangerously quiet with the last question.

“Ursula, I didn’t even know the Dark Lord would rise that night,” snapped Lucius.

“So now what?” said Ursula. “If the Dark Lord is indeed back, do I pretend I don’t know at school? When it’s inevitably denied, what then?”

“We will support his rise to power,” said Lucius sternly. “In private, until such time as the Dark Lord chooses to declare himself.”

“What if I don’t want to?” challenged Ursula. “What if I don’t want to see my friends hurt?”

“Any friend worth having will be on our side,” said Lucius, forcing himself to remain calm. “Things happen in war that are out of anyone’s control.”

“So there will be a war?”

Lucius scowled, his jaw set.

“And what about my mother?” said Ursula. “She ran, didn’t she? Our side  _ cannot _ be the only option!”

“And she died for it!” said Lucius. “I will  _ not _ allow you to make the same choice she did! Our side is the right side, and the side you  _ must _ be on!”

“So what?” said Ursula. “Am I allowed no choice at all?”

“You are allowed to choose from what will keep you safe,” said Lucius quietly. “You will  _ not _ betray this family.”

“Believe me, I have no intention to,” she said, with a scornful laugh. “I have every intention of doing exactly what I am told, exactly as I’ve been taught, to uphold my family’s honor! But I draw the line at standing by while my friends are killed!”

“Ursula!” shouted Lucius. “I know this is hard for you, but —” He took a breath and lowered his voice. “— and I’m sorry about the boy’s death, I really am, but a time is coming when you must decide where your true loyalties lie.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already decided,” said Ursula coldly.

“Good,” snapped Lucius, as Ursula stalked towards the door.

“But  _ sorry _ doesn’t bring him back,” she added, shutting the door swiftly behind her. “Aunt Narcissa!” she called. Narcissa came out of the library.

“Yes, Ursula?” she said, bemused.

“I’m going to stay at Corvus Manor for a few days,” said Ursula.

“Alright dear,” said Narcissa. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” said Ursula, adding darkly under her breath, “There’s a lot of things I’m sure about.”


	72. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Ursula spent the first few days of the summer term at Corvus Manor, alone save for Dimsey and Helgie, who were fine company. She supposed at some point she had to get used to living in her own house, and what better time than before seventh year? According to wizarding customs, she  _ was _ of age now, making her, as her great aunt Cassiopeia had put it, the mistress of her own home.

Malfoy Manor was a lovely country house with iron wrought gates that opened onto a straight drive, sprawling lands, and tall windows, built like an elegant fortress and as stately in appearance as the family who lived there. It was a large manor that could easily compete with all the other pureblood residences, but it was practically half the size of the enormous Corvus Manor.

Ursula had dozens of bedrooms, a positively gigantic library, and acres upon acres of sprawling land to herself. Corvus Manor had a magnificent ballroom, and a dining hall fit for thirty. In its heyday, no less than six house elves had been employed, with Ursula’s great-great-great grandfather coming in with ten.

Now, however, it was a huge and empty house, with its sole human occupant living away for most of the year. Ursula resolved to put her house to more use, and as such was busy working with her house elves to plan a deep cleaning and renovation of the manor itself and the lands it sat on. She still wasn’t brave enough to venture down into the basement, however. Her grandfather had said there was nothing but old curses, and Ursula didn’t doubt that they could be very harmful, so it was best not to go alone.

Ursula had been reading almost obsessively about the First Wizarding War,  _ needing _ to understand what happened on both sides, but particularly on the side of the Death Eaters. The library at Corvus Manor was the finest she’d seen at any of the purebloods’ manors in Britain, and though the shelves were guarded by hexes of their own, Ursula was a Black, and nothing there was off limits to her.

She was reading through a book of family history so old that she had to wear gloves to turn the dry pages when Dimsey entered the library.

“Mrs. Malfoy is here to see Mistress,” said Dimsey in his low, froggy voice.

“Thank you Dimsey,” said Ursula, shutting the book she was reading. “Would you please bring tea to the drawing room?”

Dimsey nodded and Disapparated, and Ursula hurried out to the entrance hall.

“Aunt Narcissa,” she said excitedly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I came to see how you were doing,” said Narcissa, “and to talk.”

“Please, this way,” said Ursula. They entered the drawing room, settling themselves on chairs, and soon Helgie arrived bearing a tea tray. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Lucius told me about your disagreement after you left,” said Narcissa cooly, stirring milk into her tea. “I can only say that I understand and sympathize with your position. However —”

She looked straight at Ursula, her blue eyes hard yet understanding.

“— hard times are ahead, Ursula,” said Narcissa. “You must prepare.”

“How?” said Ursula. “How can I, when my side is chosen for me, but —”

“I would not speak those doubts to anyone else,” said Narcissa. “Perhaps it’s because of your mother that I understand why you’re wavering, or perhaps I’ve had time to reflect since the war, but you must stay on our side.”

“How?” repeated Ursula. “How, if it means the death of my friends? How can you?”

“I will support the Dark Lord as long as it keeps my family safe,” said Narcissa. “That includes you. War is coming, and people will die on both sides. But to keep them safe —”

Here her voice hitched, just barely, but enough that Ursula took notice.

“To keep your friends safe, you  _ must _ be on his side,” Narcissa finished. “I will not tell Lucius of your doubts, as long as you understand that our side is and can be the only side.”

“Why did you let me visit Andromeda then?”

“I don’t know,” said Narcissa. “Perhaps it is because Cassiopeia wanted it, just as she wanted you to be safe. To that end,” she drew herself up, “I wish to teach you Occlumency.”

“What?” said Ursula.

“Your aunt Bellatrix is quite a skilled Legilimens,” said Narcissa, “but it was never to my taste. Rather, I adopted a different role.”

Ursula was quiet, her tea untouched.

“The Dark Lord will not notice you, Ursula, as long as you play by his rules,” whispered Narcissa. “He does not take notice of wives, or of daughters. All you have to do is stay in the background.”

“What does Occlumency have to do with this?” asked Ursula.

“Truth be told, I am not sure if this could even be considered Occlumency,” said Narcissa. “But it is a skill passed down from mothers to daughters that has permeated pureblood society for centuries. In my experience, it is like constructing a place in your mind to comfort you. It is not a guard against those who wish to invade your mind, but rather if they did, all they would see are the memories they expect.”

“What is yours like?” said Ursula, deeply intrigued.

“I think of a ballroom,” said Narcissa. “Each guest is a memory. The things I want no one else to know, such as taking you to visit my disowned sister or…” She drew a breath and did not finish. “Those are etched high above onto the ceiling, where no one would ever think to look.”

She handed Ursula a slim book bound in red leather.

“These,” she said, “are a collection of notes, unsigned, by women who have mastered the practice. My mother gave it to me when I married Lucius. It is more difficult, and confusing, than it may seem, but it is deeply worthwhile to learn.”

Ursula opened the book, her eyes scanning over the first page, which had nothing more than simple notes, such as  _ I went to the lake today _ and  _ My dearest husband, oh, but if he knew _ .

“I’ll do my best,” said Ursula.

“You always do,” said Narcissa. “Remember Ursula, that when people expect very little of you, it is easy to conceal quite a lot.”

She stood, setting her half full teacup and its saucer on the table beside her.

“Now, I’m afraid I cannot stay, as I have an appointment with Twilfitt & Tattings in half an hour,” said Narcissa. “Please, come to dinner. Lucius and Draco miss you, as do I.”

“I will,” said Ursula. “Thank you.”

~~~

Narcissa was not the only one who came to tea with Ursula. She did, in fact, return to Malfoy Manor for most meals, although she was content to live in her own house. On Wednesday, as promised, Hadrian arrived, dressed in a suit and bringing with him a large bouquet of flowers as a gift.

“Mother was absolutely  _ thrilled _ when I told her who I was visiting,” said Hadrian, flopping down on one of the couches in the drawing room as Ursula went to stand by the tall windows that looked out over the garden. “In fact, she made me promise to invite you to tea.”

“Tell her I’ll be glad to accept,” said Ursula, turning away from the window. “When does she want to meet with me?”

“Monday, I think,” said Hadrian.

“Alright, I believe I’m free then,” said Ursula. “I’m taking my Apparation test on Friday, then Felix Rosier and Ismelda Yaxley are getting married Saturday, and I’m supposed to have tea with my aunt and the Shafiqs on Sunday.”

Hadrian sucked in through his teeth.

“My, my, you are busy,” he said. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Not as busy as you will be, when you’ve got a job,” she said. “Are you going to the wedding?”

“Yes, I believe so,” said Hadrian. “Although I never really knew Felix. Or Ismelda, for that matter.”

“Ismelda was Head Girl in my first year, and she is Vanessa’s cousin,” said Ursula. “Her mother was born a Yaxley. All I know about Felix is that he works with dragons in Romania, which is quite enough for me.”

Hadrian laughed.

“If you end up in a conversation, you’ll have plenty to talk about, then,” he teased.

“Before I forget, is it just supposed to be your mother and I or will someone else be joining us?” asked Ursula.

“My cousin Edith,” said Hadrian. “Do you know her?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ursula. “She was two years above me at school. Isn’t Edwin Yaxley courting her?”

“That’s the one,” said Hadrian. “Although they’ve only just started courting. Oh, and Arabella Selwyn, another cousin of mine.”

“I’ll be able to congratulate her, then,” said Ursula. “I saw her engagement in the paper just this morning, and her fiancé is one of my financial advisors.”

“Greengrass, isn’t it?” said Hadrian.

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “How was your interview?”

“Terrific,” said Hadrian, grinning. “I start a week from Monday, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I think I’ll like being Mr. Burke’s assistant, at least for now. Speaking of Monday, that’s when Hit Wizard training starts. They do it in the late afternoon, since most of the hit wizards have other Ministry jobs.”

Ursula grimaced.

“And you definitely can’t get out of it?” she said.

“If I could, I would,” said Hadrian. Ursula sighed.

“Try to stay safe, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” promised Hadrian. Ursula pursed her lips.

“Have some more cake,” she said, and Hadrian laughed.

~~~

Ursula passed her Apparation test on Friday, and celebrated by Apparating randomly about the grounds of Corvus Manor, inspiring Betelguese to chase her and giving Agatha quite the fright. Then, on Saturday, she and the Malfoys attended a wedding.

Corban Yaxley, the bride’s father, was an old friend of Lucius’s. He had once worked at the Ministry, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and retained some powerful contacts. Ismelda was a pretty, intelligent young woman with her father’s cunning.

Though Ursula did not know the groom, Felix Rosier, she did know several of his relatives. His aunt, Theodosia, was Rodolphus Lestrange’s younger sister. Felix seemed a fine young chap, with glossy black hair and a lanky but lean look about him. He did not look overly thrilled to be getting married, but seemed pleased to be with his new wife nonetheless.

“Hello again darling,” said Ursula, leaning up to peck Hadrian on the cheek as she greeted him at the reception. “It’s wonderful to see you here.”

“What, you thought I’d miss this?” said Hadrian, offering her his arm. “That’s a lovely new hat you have, by the way.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula, with a shy laugh.

“Mother, Father, do excuse us,” said Hadrian.

“Of course,” said Montgomery, leaning back in his chair with the most satisfied grin on his face.

“Truth be told,” said Hadrian under his breath, as he led Ursula towards the dancing, “I did want to get out of it.”

Ursula giggled.

“What, don’t you enjoy weddings?” she said.

“I’d prefer to have met one of the people getting married, that’s all,” said Hadrian.

“Well, you did marvelously with your parents back there,” said Ursula.

“That’s all you, I assure you,” said Hadrian. “They adore you.”

“That reminds me,” said Ursula, her face going grave, “at some point before I go back to school we must revisit our arrangement. I’ve had a new development, beyond what… what happened to…” She drew a shaky breath. “Well. Let’s not ruin the illusion now.”

“Quite right,” said Hadrian, with compassion in his eyes. “Would you care to dance?”

“Yes, let’s,” said Ursula.

~~~

Monday arrived a little too quickly for Ursula’s liking, and just before teatime she Apparated to Rowle Manor, to spend some time alone with Hadrian’s mother. Well, not quite alone, but without an ally, at least.

“Ah, Ms. Black, how kind of you to come,” said Anastasia, leading Ursula into the manor.

“It is my pleasure to be here, truly, Mrs. Rowle,” said Ursula. “Please, call me Ursula.”

“Only if you call me Anastasia,” Anastasia replied with a laugh. “Would you care for a tour? Arabella and Edith are already here, but I daresay they’ll survive without us for a while longer.”

“A tour would be lovely,” said Ursula.

She knew, as Anastasia led her on a tour through the magnificent, enormous house, that by marrying Hadrian he would move in with her, and not the other way around. It was most unusual, of course, but along with their eldest son, the Rowles would be providing a great deal of money to the marriage, so they were still on even footing. Besides, a house the size of Rowle Manor would greatly add to Caspian, their younger son’s, prospects.

When the tour was over, Anastasia told Ursula that they would be having tea in the garden pavilion.

“Actually, I was rather hoping for some advice,” she said. “Our gardens are lovely, of course, but could stand to be improved.”

“I am happy to do what I can,” said Ursula, “although I rather doubt you need my help. Your gardens are some of the finest I’ve seen.”

“My, you are kind,” said Anastasia. They reached the pavilion, where two young women waited for them and a house elf was pouring tea. “These are my nieces, Arabella Selwyn and Edith Rowle. This is Miss Black.”

“How do you do?” said Arabella. She had a shrewd, calculating look on her face, and Ursula knew it would be an uphill battle to win her over.

“Very well, thank you,” said Ursula. “I must congratulate you on your engagement. I saw it in the paper. I’m sure you and Mr. Greengrass will make a fine match.”

“Do you know Hector?” said Arabella, sounding a little as if she was hoping Ursula didn’t.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Ursula. “Yes, he is a member of my financial advisory team, through Gringotts.”

That fact alone seemed to satisfy Arabella, whose eyes shifted to regard Ursula with more curiosity and less resentment. Edith, on the other hand, Ursula could easily believe was related to Hadrian, as she was bright, perky, and eager.

“Hadrian spends so much time talking about you,” she said. “I’m so pleased we have this chance to meet properly. Of course, our paths crossed occasionally at school, but we were in different years.”

“I’m delighted to get to know you as well,” replied Ursula, smiling at her. “All Hadrian has said about you, about all of you, have been sparkling reports, and I can already tell he wasn’t exaggerating in the least.”

“How kind of you,” said Edith, blushing.

“I hear your father is a Healer,” said Ursula. “Does he work at St. Mungo’s?”

“Yes, he does,” said Edith. “He works on the third floor, healing people who have been poisoned from plants or potions.”

“How fascinating,” said Ursula.

“Aunt Anastasia tells us that you’re taking ten NEWTs,” said Arabella.

“How clever of you,” said Edith. “I could never manage it. I took Charms, Herbology, History of Magic, and Arithmancy, which was terribly difficult.”

“Yes, I am,” said Ursula. “I decided not to drop any of my classes after my OWLs, save for Arithmancy, which I swapped for Alchemy.”

“Why so many?” said Arabella.

“Oh, I like to make sure my education is well rounded, that’s all,” said Ursula evasively. She knew that expressing her dreams of becoming a dragonologist would not score her any points.

“I think that’s marvelous,” said Anastasia. “You know, Hadrian took practically every class he was offered at Durmstrang, plus he played Quidditch.”

“Yes, he and I both play Chaser,” said Ursula. “While the Durmstrang students were at Hogwarts we played a scrimmage match against them. Hadrian ended up with a broken nose and we had to visit the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey mended it in a trice.”

“It’s rather a dangerous sport for a young lady, wouldn’t you say?” said Anastasia.

Choosing her words carefully, Ursula said, “It can be, but my team keeps me well protected on the pitch.”

Ursula knew she had Edith on her side, which would make the rest of tea much easier. Anastasia clearly liked her, even if she was against Ursula’s less-than-ladylike pursuits, which made Arabella the one she needed to crack. But Ursula was more than up to the challenge, and she settled into tea feeling very hopeful about her chances.

~~~

The summer term seemed to be sliding by quick as could be. In mid July, Ursula decided to visit Andromeda and Ted, as she hadn’t seen them since last summer. She Apparated to their front steps, and at once the door was thrown open and she was pulled into a hug by her aunt.

“Ursula dear!” she said, leading her inside. “It’s been ages since we last saw you! How have you been?”

“Well, for the most part,” said Ursula. “You’ve heard about what happened during the third task, surely.”

“Yes,” said Andromeda, her face somber. “It was a tragedy. Was he a friend of yours?”

Ursula nodded, all of a sudden feeling like she was about to cry. She’d been coping with Cedric’s death by not thinking about it, which was practically impossible.

“Oh dear,” whispered Andromeda, and she pulled Ursula into a motherly hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Er — I wanted… I wanted to ask you something about the first war,” said Ursula. “I think… I think something’s coming and I just… I don’t know how to pick a side.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I understand that better than most people,” said Andromeda. “Tell me a little more about why it’s hard for you.”

“I don’t believe in what You-Know-Who wants the world to look like,” said Ursula, “and I don’t — I don’t want to see my friends get killed. But I can’t walk away because I can’t leave my friends on You-Know-Who’s side. They won’t agree — they don’t agree — with him, but they will stay because of their families, and I can’t leave.” She swallowed shakily. “They — we — are children, and I feel like the hate from other students at school plus the pressure from their parents will make them stay, even if they don’t agree. I feel like if I stay, I can protect them.”

It was the first time Ursula had said out loud to anyone what she really thought about the war that might happen. If Lord Voldemort really was back, which she was compelled to believe, then she was afraid for her friends, all of the pureblood children who had never known another point of view, or, if they had, would not abandon their families and would stay because they were scared.

“The world is not as black and white as everyone thinks it is,” said Andromeda. “Hard as it is to believe, there are good and bad people on both sides, and people who don’t pick a side at all. Things happen that are beyond anyone’s control. The only advice I can give you is to do what’s right for you, and to be careful of who you put your trust in.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “I’ll think about what you said.”

“How about you stay for dinner,” suggested Ted, entering the living room. “We’d love to have you.”

“That would be lovely,” said Ursula.

~~~

Ursula received several letters in a very short span of time. She received one from Cassius, asking himself to tea, one from Fred and George with a date to see the building, and one that was unsigned, but written in a slanted handwriting that Ursula could guess belonged to Professor Dumbledore. To him she replied first, sending back a disguised copy of the list of all the Death Eaters who had fought in the first war. Fred and George’s owl, which she thought was called Errol, or something similar, was rather uncoordinated, and hit the window of the dining room rather than glide in through the open one.

“Dimsey!” called Ursula. Dimsey appeared with a crack in front of her. “Please take Errol up to the Owlery and give him something to eat.”

“Very good, Mistress,” said Dimsey, taking the owl on his arm. “Will Mistress be needing anything else for breakfast?”

“No, and I’m visiting Malfoy Manor for lunch,” said Ursula. Dimsey nodded and vanished, taking Errol with him.

Ursula made good on her promise to go to Malfoy Manor, where she had been having lunch and dinner nearly every day, as she preferred not to eat alone.

“Ursula, there you are,” called Draco. “I want to play Quidditch later, if you’re up for it.”

“I should be,” said Ursula. “You’ll have to practice if you want to play seeker again.”

Draco pouted.

“Rude,” he said. “I’m very good.”

“But you haven’t played for months,” reminded Ursula, as they entered the dining room together.

“Ah, Ursula, there you are,” said Lucius, who was just sitting down. “I ran into the young Mr. Rowle while visiting the Minister today. He seems to have settled into his new job.”

“Yes, he enjoys it,” said Ursula.

“Did you receive an invitation to the Selwyn-Greengrass wedding in August?” asked Narcissa.

“Yes, I did,” said Ursula. “I thought it was most kind of them.”

“I thought I’d schedule a dress fitting at Twilfitt & Tattings for you,” said Narcissa. “When are you free?”

“I’m rather busy at the moment, odd as it sounds,” said Ursula. “Cassius is coming for tea tomorrow, my father is visiting on Thursday, so I’ll be out all day… How about Saturday?”

“Wonderful,” said Narcissa.

“Do you know who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is yet?” asked Ursula, turning back to Lucius. “I do hope it’s someone good.”

“Not yet, no,” said Lucius. “But Fudge seems to have had an idea; I heard him discussing it this morning.”

Ursula nodded and turned back to her lunch.

~~~

Ursula was already in the drawing room when Cassius Apparated outside Corvus Manor.

“Hello Cass!” she said, running to the door to meet him.

“Ursula, hi!” he said, catching her in a hug.

“How have you been? It feels like it’s been ages even though it’s only been a couple of weeks,” said Ursula, as they sat down for tea.

“I’ve been alright,” said Cassius. “I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping, to be honest, but hit wizard training is so exhausting that I’ve solved that problem.”

“That’s right, you started last week,” said Ursula. “Er — how is it?”

“Not… too bad,” said Cassius slowly. “They only spend three weeks training us, so I’m about halfway through. When the application said ‘not of a nervous disposition’ they meant it.”

“And your father still won’t let you quit?”

“I’ve stopped asking him, to be honest,” said Cassius. “He’s thrilled that I’m finally doing it, and he was insistent that I join.”

“Is it alright that you go back to school in September?” said Ursula. “I mean, will they hire you back?”

“Honestly, I’d rather they didn’t,” said Cassius. “But yes, they’re used to it. Alastor Gumboil told me young recruits are always helpful.”

“I do think it’s strange that Aurors are highly trained but hit wizards, who are used specifically for dangerous situations, don’t even have to have left school,” said Ursula, frowning.

“Plus I have to be on call at all hours,” said Cassius. “They did give me a broomstick, though, and the starting salary is seven hundred galleons a month, which is a lot, especially for a beginner.”

“At least you get something good out of it,” said Ursula.

“Hadrian mentioned you had tea with his mother,” said Cassius, changing topics and sounding amused. “How did that go?”

“Well, I think,” said Ursula. “His cousin Edith was no trouble at all, but Arabella Selwyn didn’t like me at all, at first. But I think I won her over in the end.”

“You can’t quarrel with your boyfriend’s family, after all,” said Cassius. “Even if he’s a fake boyfriend.”

“To be honest, it’s easier to pretend when he’s not at Hogwarts,” said Ursula. “There’s less pressure, less obligations.”

“And more time to fall in love with someone else,” said Cassius, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Whatever do you mean?” said Ursula, completely nonplussed.

“Ah, so your reluctance to pretend you’re in a relationship has nothing to do with a certain red-haired Gryffindor?” said Cassius, grinning.

“Certainly not,” said Ursula, taking a sip of her tea to disguise the fact that her cheeks had gone pink.

~~~

“Mum! George and I are going for a walk!”

“Well alright,” said Molly, bustling into the hallway. “But stay in the neighborhood and mind that you’re back well before dinner!”

Fred and George grinned at each other and hurried down the stairs. They, like the rest of their family, had been staying at Grimmauld Place for about a week now, and it was a dreary, slightly decaying house. They were both more than excited to be visiting Diagon Alley in secret today, even without the added incentive of seeing their new building.

Their  _ building _ . That though alone made Fred want to jump for joy.

Fred and George waited until they were away from Grimmauld Place and out of sight of any Muggles before Disapparating, arriving on the sunny cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

“What number did she say it was?” asked George, as they walked down the streets, passing a great number of witches and wizards out shopping.

“Number 93,” said Fred, pulling out Ursula’s letter to check.

“Is that it, then?” said George, pointing up ahead.

“Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, I presume?” said a stocky, serious man in a dark blue suit as they drew nearer to Number 93, Diagon Alley. Fred and George nodded. “I am Edwin Graham, Ms. Black’s lawyer.”

“Er — nice to meet you,” said Fred awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I thought we were meeting Ursula?”

“So you are,” said Mr. Graham stiffly. “She’s waiting for you upstairs.”

He led them through the empty shop and into the back room. It was very dusty. There were a set of stairs in the back, and the Weasley twins followed Mr. Graham up to the second — no, the third — floor. The door to the flat was open, and a few boxes were piled just inside the doorway.

“— Tony wanted to come, of course, but we’re taking a vacation in August so he couldn’t get the time off.”

Fred stopped short. It was a man’s voice, and it wasn’t Hadrian’s, or any of Ursula’s friends. The voice was loud, humorous, and strangely foreign — American. Fred followed George into the flat as the man gave a loud laugh.

“Ursula! Your friends are here!”

Just like that, Fred and George came face to face with the mystery man. He was very tall, freckled, and fairly thin, and wore a tan waistcoat over a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had Ursula’s dazzling smile and twinkling blue eyes.

“Hello Fred! Hello George!” said Ursula brightly. “This is my father.”

Fred’s jaw dropped open.

“Hello there. I’m Kenneth Scamander,” said Ursula’s father, shaking the stunned Weasley twins’ hands. “Call me Ken.”

“It’s, er, nice to meet you,” said Fred.

“Yeah,” said George. “I’m Fred.”

“I’m George,” added Fred.

Ken laughed, startling them both.

“Ursula warned me about you,” he said. “I think  _ you’re _ Fred, and  _ you’re _ George.”

“He’s good,” said George. The boys grinned appreciatively at Ken. Mr. Graham coughed slightly.

“Shall we get down to business?” he said.

“Not until Mr. Evans arrives,” said Ursula. “He’s the head of my financial advisory team,” she explained to Fred and George.

“I’m here,” said a tall, cheerful man as he stepped through the doorway. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Black.” He turned to the Weasleys. “Hello Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley. I am Alasdair Evans. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Now we can begin,” said Ursula, leading all five men to the dining table. “Fred, George, have you brought the money for the price we discussed?”

“We have,” said George, setting the large bag on the table. Mr. Evans waved his wand and the bag opened, the galleons counting themselves.

“Four hundred pounds is a low price —” began Mr. Graham. At a sharp look from Ursula, he said, “but Ms. Black believes it is sensible.”

“And with the state of her investments, the deficit has already been made up,” said Mr. Evans breezily.

“Er — we can pay more,” stammered Fred awkwardly.

“Nonsense,” said Ursula. “We agreed on a price, and I won’t sell for a knut higher.”

“If you’ll just sign these papers,” said Mr. Graham stiffly.

While Fred and George signed the contract, Ursula and her father moved to the kitchen, where they were busy packing up Ursula’s possessions. Most of the stuff would be moved to Corvus Manor, and Ken would stay there whenever he visited.

“Your friends are nice,” he said, while wrapping china plates in newspaper. “Fred in particular.”

“Yes,” said Ursula evasively. Ken smiled up at her.

“You can’t fool me, little one,” he said. “I’ve never met your Mr. Rowle, but you don’t sound terribly keen on him.”

“If I explained, you would understand,” said Ursula.

“I wish you  _ would _ explain,” said Ken. “Especially when nice lads like the Weasleys like you.”

“You’re a terrible matchmaker,” said Ursula with a snort. She stood and returned to the dining table. “Have we all finished here?”

“We have,” said Mr. Evans. He scooped up the money and nodded to them all. “Good day, Ms. Black. You’ll be by in August, correct?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Ursula. Mr. Evans smiled and left. Mr. Graham said his goodbyes and left as well. “Well boys, would you like a tour?”

“That’d be great,” said Fred. Both he and George had relaxed from all the shocks by now.

“I’ll stay here,” said Ken. Fred didn’t know if it was his imagination, but he could have sworn Ken winked at his daughter.

“Follow me,” said Ursula. “You’ve seen the flat — there’s two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room that I added a dining table to.”

“It’s a nice flat,” said George. “Where’d you get it?”

“From my mum,” said Ursula. “I bought the rest of the building around Christmas, from the old wizard who owned the antique shop, Bartholomew Harrington.”

They reached the second floor, and Ursula opened the door.

“Mr. Harrington took everything when he moved out,” she said, flicking the light switch and revealing a second, completely empty flat. “And I do mean everything.”

“We could use this as a storeroom,” said Fred.

“Excellent idea,” said George. Ursula grinned.

“It has the same layout as the flat above,” said Ursula. When the boys had finished looking around, she brought them down to the ground floor. “It’s dusty, but hopefully it’ll work.”

“It’s… magnificent,” said Fred, turning back to face Ursula. “Seriously. Thank you, Ursula, so, so much.”

“You’re welcome, Fred,” she replied. They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other in the dusty shop.

“What’s through here?” said George, causing Ursula to cough and look away from Fred, who still stared at the spot where she had been standing.

“Mr. Harrington always used it as a backroom for more valuable products,” said Ursula. “It can be whatever you want, now that it’s yours.”

She sent a lingering glance back at Fred as she followed George to the backroom. Feeling faintly as if he’d just been electrocuted, Fred followed.

~~~

On Friday, it was time for Ursula to do something she had been preparing for for months. Wasting no time after lunch, she Apparated to Tonks’s flat, and together they Apparated onwards, to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

“Hello all! I’ve brought someone with me!” said Tonks brightly, as she crossed through the threshold, bringing Ursula with her.

“Black?” chorused Fred and George, who stood on the stairs.

“Tonks, you know you’re not supposed to —” began Sirius Black as he came out of the kitchen. He saw Ursula and froze. “You… you look just like your mother.”

“Hello Sirius,” said Ursula coolly. “I’ve come to speak with you.”

“Please, let’s go into the kitchen,” said Sirius, a bit breathlessly.

Just as they were headed into the kitchen, Tonks tripped over the umbrella stand. The curtains covering Walburga’s portrait flew open and immediately she began shouting at the top of her lungs. Fred and George covered their ears and left.

“FILTHY HALF-BREEDS AND BLOOD TRAITORS —”

Sirius roared with frustration, with Remus Lupin following him out of the kitchen and tugging futilely at the curtains on either side of Walburga’s portrait, while Tonks apologized profusely. They all froze in their tracks as Walburga stopped screaming all on her own.

Her eyes had landed on Ursula, who stood calmly in front of her portrait.

“Ursula?”

“Hello Auntie.”

“My dear, look how you’ve grown! You have represented the House of Black well. A Slytherin, I hope?”

“Yes Auntie.”

“Marvelous, dear, we all knew you would be.”

The jaws of everyone watching, especially Sirius, fell open as they watched his mother, who had been nothing but evil, loud, and angry thus far, hold a perfectly civil conversation with her grandniece. They could not imagine Walburga even being polite, much less  _ nice _ , and it was shocking to hear her use terms of endearment.

“I’m terribly sorry Auntie, but now is not an ideal time for me to hold a conversation,” Ursula was saying. “But I would very much like to come back later, if that is all right?”

“Very well, Ursula, I shall hear about your accomplishments later.”

And to the continued amazement of everyone there, Ursula slid shut the curtains without a word of protest.

“How did you —” began Sirius, but he was cut off again as Mad-Eye Moody, who had stumped up to investigate the commotion, saw Ursula and charged.

“BLACK! What are you doing in this house? Spying for the ENEMY?”

Ursula didn’t so much as flinch. She glanced at the wand at her throat and then up at Moody’s face, her expression unimpressed.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” she said frostily. “I am Ursula Black, daughter of the late Cassiopeia Black —”

“I know who you are!” growled Moody.

“Good,” said Ursula crisply. “Then you should also know that since my mother’s death I have been raised in part by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy —”

“Which makes you a traitor!”

“— and in part by Ted and Andromeda Tonks,” continued Ursula as if she’d never been interrupted. “In all likelihood, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is indeed back, I will hold a place among his inner circle, just as my aunt did —”

“Which makes you a spy!”

“Got there at last?” said Ursula. “Since you know who I am, you should know that Professor Dumbledore has asked me to spy for your side because he knows that I will likely be privy to every meeting the Dark Lord holds without being branded by the Dark Mark, meaning that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will have placed a spy among his most trusted followers because I will ensure that to him, I do not matter enough to even merit suspicion.”

Ursula maintained her cool glare as Moody lowered the wand from her throat.

“But, since you know who I am, I suppose you already knew that.”

She sidestepped Moody and crossed towards Sirius.

“Perhaps the drawing room would be better,” he suggested faintly.

“Yes, I think it would,” said Ursula, heading through the doorway he gestured to.

“Well,” said Remus Lupin as they all stared dumbfounded after her. “There’s no doubt she’s a Black.”

“For better or worse,” muttered Sirius, although he was grinning broadly as he followed his cousin into the drawing room, excited for their talk.


	73. The Head Girl

“So,” said Sirius, as he sat down across from his cousin. The resemblance between her and her mother really was remarkable. She regarded him with suspicious curiosity, her cold grey eyes betraying nothing. “Where should we begin?”

“How did you escape from Azkaban?” asked Ursula immediately.

“I knew I wasn’t guilty, so the thought kept me sane, and eventually I realized that I could slip through the bars in my Animagus form,” said Sirius. “I then swam through the North Sea back to shore.”

“You’re an unregistered Animagus, then,” said Ursula. It wasn’t a question.

“I am,” confirmed Sirius. “I know you’re a  _ registered _ Animagus because I was watching the first time you transformed.” Ursula’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “I was there to watch Harry play Quidditch.”

“I see,” said Ursula.

“I told him it was foolish,” said Remus, as he entered the drawing room carrying a tea tray. “Of course, I only found out months afterwards, but still.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin,” said Ursula, accepting a tea cup. Sirius snorted.

“Mr. Lupin,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well I can’t very well call him professor anymore,” said Ursula. “Even if we all wish he’d come back.”

“Just call me Remus,” said Remus, smiling as he sat beside Sirius.

“Why did you escape when you did?” said Ursula. “Why after twelve years?”

“I saw a picture in the paper of a former friend, Peter Pettigrew,” explained Sirius. “Well, he was in his Animagus form, but I recognized him — he was living as Ron Weasley’s pet rat. He and James, Harry’s father, were both Animaguses… anyway, I knew he was in a position to hurt Harry, if he was at Hogwarts, so I escaped.”

“Is it safe to assume that Peter Pettigrew was the man who escaped that night?” said Ursula. Sirius nodded.

“How did you know I was innocent?” he asked. “Why did you intervene?”

“I didn’t know you were innocent. I still don’t know for sure, if I’m being honest,” said Ursula. “But I certainly knew you weren’t a servant of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Yes, I suppose you would,” said Sirius.

“In fact, Peter Pettigrew is the only Death Eater who I’ve never heard of,” said Ursula thoughtfully. “Anyway, I intervened to save you from being mauled by a mad werewolf — no offense Remus.”

“Non taken,” said Remus good naturedly. He took a sip of his tea and shared a look with Sirius.

“What really happened?” asked Ursula. “If you didn’t kill those Muggles, who did? Was it Pettigrew?”

“Yes, it was,” said Sirius, his voice grave.

“Honestly, if veritaserum was involved in more trials,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes. Sirius grinned.

“What have you been up to at Hogwarts?” said Sirius. “Are you a prefect, like Cassiopeia?”

“Yes, I am,” said Ursula. “I’m going into seventh year. I’ve been a chaser for Slytherin since fourth year. I plan to be a dragonologist when I graduate.”

Sirius grinned even wider. His cousin, raised as the heir to the House of Black, wanted to be a dragonologist. He liked the sound of that.

“Your grades must be good, if you’re a prefect,” said Sirius. “I seem to recall Cassiopeia was quite clever.”

“She got more OWLs than James,” said Remus fondly.

“I got ten OWLs,” said Ursula, “and I’m taking ten NEWTs.”

Sirius whistled.

“I took five,” he said. “Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Ancient Runes, if I remember correctly.”

“I’m taking everything but Muggle Studies and Divination,” said Ursula, “and Arithmancy, which I switched for Alchemy after getting an OWL.”

“Ursula is Professor McGonagall’s favorite,” said Remus. Sirius laughed.

“I think I expected that,” he said. “If you don’t mind me asking —”

“— you want to know who my father is?” finished Ursula for him. “I don’t mind in the least. My father is Kenneth Scamander. Have you ever met him?”

“Our paths probably crossed at school,” said Sirius with a shrug. “I know his brother, though, Barnaby Scamander. He was a Ravenclaw in our year. Is he still called Bat?”

Ursula laughed.

“Yes, that’s what we call him,” she said.

“So you’re definitely a pureblood?” Sirius teased.

“My mother may have broken from our family, but I daresay even she wouldn’t have gone that far,” said Ursula. “And I highly doubt I’d be sitting here if she had.”

“You’re probably right about that,” said Sirius. “Is it true you live at Malfoy Manor? I heard the Weasley twins talking, and they said you were dating some boy called Rowle.”

Sirius watched carefully for Ursula’s reaction. She had still grown up surrounded by former Death Eaters and those who agreed with them, after all, and he knew how pureblood society worked.

“I’ve started living more at Corvus Manor now, since it is my home, but yes, I do live with the Malfoys,” said Ursula. She sighed. “Hadrian and I are destined for an arranged marriage, so starting a relationship now is sensible for us both.”

“You don’t sound thrilled,” said Sirius, trying and failing to make it into a joke. Ursula pinned him with a cold look.

“That’s because I’m not,” she said. “But for now, I’ll play along, and everyone will be happy.”

Sirius thought that was all very interesting. Judging by the confused look on Remus’s face, he was bursting with questions.

“Why exactly did you come here today?” said Sirius.

“To begin with, I wanted to meet you. Properly,” said Ursula. “Additionally, there’s a war coming, I know there is, and I want to be on the right side when it does.”

“And that’s our side, isn’t it?” said Remus.

“It’s not the Death Eaters,” said Ursula without a pause.

“That’s not quite the answer to the question —” began Sirius.

“I know,” said Ursula. “Yes, I’m on your side, but I won’t abandon those who can’t join us either. I suppose I’m on my own side when it comes down to it.”

“What will you do when war breaks out?” asked Remus.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Ursula.

“How is Corvus Manor?” asked Sirius, changing the subject. “I haven’t been there since I was a teenager.” He frowned. “Merlin, that makes me feel old.”

“You’re not that old,” said Remus affectionately.

“My house elves keep Corvus Manor in good shape,” said Ursula. “I also have them visit Great Aunt Cassiopeia’s house regularly. She left it to me when she died.”

“I always liked her,” said Sirius. “I found out recently that she left me a bit of money, even though I was in Azkaban.”

“Then it’ll make you pleased to hear that that portion of her will make some members of the family very angry,” said Ursula. Sirius laughed. “You’re living here, then?”

“I am,” said Sirius. “Remus lives here too, and the Weasleys are staying. Hermione Granger’s here already, and Harry’s supposed to come in a few days.”

Ursula nodded.

“And the house is being used for…?” She trailed off.

“We host meetings for the —” began Remus.

“That’s what I thought,” said Ursula. “I don’t want to know any concrete details, in case He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever, er, questions me. I daresay I’m in enough danger as is.”

Sirius was impressed that his cousin had thought this through so well. She was shrewd and quick, and her eyes danced the way Cassiopeia’s did.

“I should probably get going,” said Ursula, standing up. “I shouldn’t be gone too long and I’m having dinner with my father.”

“It was good of you to come,” said Sirius, also standing. “Er — you can write, if you’d like.”

“I will,” said Ursula. “Who knows, I may even visit again. Good day Sirius, Remus.”

As she headed back out into the hall, Sirius on her heels, he heard Kreacher’s low, rasping voice.

“— If my mistress was here. Mudbloods and blood traitors and halfbreeds, besmirching the name of Black —”

“Kreacher!” shouted Sirius, spotting the house elf on the stairs. But Ursula held up a hand.

“Ah, hello Kreacher,” she said. Kreacher’s eyes immediately snapped to her and he scurried down the stairs, bowing as he reached her feet.

“Mistress Ursula! Kreacher has been waiting so long, oh yes, Kreacher has, for a proper member of the House of Black to return!” croaked Kreacher. “Is there anything Kreacher can do for the mistress? Is Mistress staying?”

“No Kreacher, I am leaving now,” said Ursula. “Don’t tell anyone that I was here unless I give you explicit permission.”

“Yes Mistress,” said Kreacher. But far from looking annoyed or angry, as he did whenever Sirius gave him orders, he looked eager to serve Ursula.

“Very well,” said Ursula. “If I visit again, you will be able to help me, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mistress,” said Kreacher, bowing again. Ursula nodded and he disappeared with a crack.

“He’s a nasty piece of work,” said Sirius.

“On the contrary,” said Ursula lightly. “He just hates all of you. I’m not sure if there’s anything you can do to change his mind, but let me know if I can help. Bye then.”

“Bye,” chorused Sirius and Remus as Ursula shut the front door behind her. They heard a soft pop as she Disapparated.

“She was something,” remarked Remus.

“What was she like when you taught her?” inquired Sirius, as they turned and headed back into the kitchen.

“Smart, intuitive, and capable,” said Remus. “I found out later that long before Snape ever revealed my furry little secret, all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years already knew.”

Sirius laughed.

“You never were very good at hiding it,” he said. “Do you think Ursula can do it? Can she be on both sides at once?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Remus. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Sirius, and he meant it.

~~~

“I had an interesting piece of news yesterday,” said Lucius at breakfast.

“Oh?” said Ursula.

“Potter’s on trial for using magic in front of a Muggle,” said Lucius with a nasty grin.

“Will he be expelled?” said Draco excitedly.

“Who would be your nemesis if he was?” said Ursula innocently.

“The hearing is on Saturday,” said Lucius. “The Minister is wondering what crackpot story he’ll come up with this time.”

“Is he having a full trial in front of the Wizengamot?” said Ursula. “That’s most unusual.”

“Letters for Mistress Ursula,” said Dimsey, holding up a silver platter with a stack of letters on it for Ursula. Weesy brought letters to Draco and Lucius.

“Thank you,” said Ursula. “Ah, I see booklists have finally arrived. They usually come much earlier than this; I’d thought they had forgotten.”

“Ha!” said Draco triumphantly. He held up a green and silver prefect’s badge. “I’m a prefect now!”

“As you should be,” said Lucius.

“More importantly,” said Ursula, holding up her own new badge, “I am Head Girl.”

“Congratulations,” said Lucius. “You’ll have to tell Narcissa when she comes down. You too, Draco. She’ll be most pleased.”

Feeling very proud of herself, Ursula turned to her other letters. One was from Vanessa, and two were from Hadrian.

“That’s odd…” she murmured.

“What is?” said Draco, looking up.

“Nothing,” said Ursula. “Professor Dumbledore must have found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since a new book is on the list.”

“He didn’t,” said Lucius. “The Minister did. Dolores Umbridge, his Senior Undersecretary, will be taking the post.”

“How interesting,” said Ursula. She picked up the smaller, slightly bent letter from Hadrian that was missing his family crest on the back. “Oh my.”

“Bad news?” asked Lucius, looking over at her.

“Not exactly,” said Ursula, although it very much was. “But I must fly.”

She stood up abruptly from her chair, clutching her letters, and left the dining room with great haste.

Because Cassius was in St. Mungo’s.

Ursula Apparated there in no time, passing quickly through the magical barrier. The reception area was filled with rickety wooden chairs and outdated issues of the  _ Daily Prophet _ and  _ Witch Weekly _ . Ursula tapped her foot anxiously as she joined the queue waiting to speak to the Welcome Witch. She practically bolted up the stairs to the fourth floor (Spell Damage) after the witch told her where to go.

Ursula took a deep breath before entering the ward — which was apparently dedicated just for hit wizards. She spotted Cassius immediately, laying in the far corner and looking significantly worse for wear.

“Cassius!” she said, running over to him, past the other three hit wizards taking up beds. “Oh, Cassius.”

“Ursula,” he croaked. She sat beside him, taking one of his half bandaged hands in hers. There was a thick scar above his left eyebrow, and his face and arms were badly bruised. His right arm was in a sling and bandages crossed his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course,” Ursula whispered, trying not to cry. “Of course I’m here. Just rest.”

She heard footsteps and whirled around. Hadrian had just entered the ward, and he came over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“You got my letter,” he said. “His parents should be here soon.”

“What in the name of Merlin happened?” she whispered.

“We responded to an alert about an abandoned building that had the Dark Mark over it,” said Hadrian quietly. “It was a big group — nine of us — and we found three people inside. They were probably Death Eaters. We didn’t catch any of them. Anyway, half of us ran outside, and then… the building collapsed.”

“Bloody hell,” said Ursula. “The  _ Daily Prophet  _ won’t report it, of course.”

“The healers said Cassius should be fine, but they are going to keep him here for a few days,” said Hadrian. “They said he just needs rest, and that the potions they’re giving him will make him good as new.”

Ursula still frowned.

“I wish he could just quit,” she said. “I hate it, I just hate it.”

The door to the ward opened again, and in came a rugged man with a grim smile who greeted each of the other three hit wizards before reaching Cassius.

“This is Alastor Gumboil, the head of the hit wizard department,” hissed Hadrian into Ursula’s ear. “Hello Alastor.”

“Ah yes, hello Hadrian,” said Mr. Gumboil. “Have you alerted Cassius’s parents?”

“I have, yes,” said Hadrian.

“Good,” his boss replied. He turned to Ursula. “And who’s this?”

“This is Ursula Black, my girlfriend and one of Cassius’s best friends,” introduced Hadrian. Mr. Gumboil shook Ursula’s hand.

“So you’re Hadrian’s girlfriend,” he said. “It’s nice of you to come see Cassius. It’s always a pity when our youngest recruits get hurt, but there’s no permanent damage, so no real harm done.”

Ursula strongly disagreed, but she gave Mr. Gumboil a polite smile and headed for the door, moving away from Cassius even though it pained her so his family could see him. His mother shrieked and ran straight to him, followed by his four younger siblings and, lastly, his father.

“There’s a tearoom upstairs,” said Hadrian. “I’ll meet you there.”

Ursula nodded. She would wait until Cassius’s parents had left, and then she would stay with her friend.

“Don’t worry about your friend,” said one of the hit wizards, who sat upright and was flicking through the  _ Daily Prophet _ with his good arm. His other one was heavily bandaged. “He’ll be alright.”

“How often will this happen?” asked Ursula, stepping closer.

“Too often,” said the hit wizard with a sigh. Ursula frowned. “I’m Cerberus Langarm.”

“I’m Ursula,” she replied. “Ursula Black. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” said Cerberus.

Ursula left and headed upstairs to the visitors’ tearoom, which was fairly empty as it was early in the morning. There, she also discovered a selection of fast owls and post options, as a way to get messages to the family and friends of patients. She sent letters to Adrian and Lilian and sat down to wait.

“So,” said Hadrian, when he arrived, sitting down across from her. “Anything interesting in the paper?”

“No,” said Ursula. She felt numb. First Cedric’s death, now Cassius’s injuries… she couldn’t handle anymore of her friends getting hurt. “Our booklists came today. I was appointed Head Girl.”

“That’s brilliant! Congratulations,” said Hadrian.

“Thanks,” said Ursula halfheartedly. They talked about things of little importance for a while, just so they wouldn’t have to sit in silence, before heading back downstairs just as Cassius’s family was leaving, all promising to come back later.

Ursula resumed her place beside Cassius’s bed, and shortly before lunch Adrian and Lilian arrived, both looking upset and out of breath.

“What happened? Is he alright?” said Lilian, sitting down on the other side of Cassius’s bed. Hadrian relayed the story of what happened to them both. Lilian covered her mouth with her hands.

“Poor Cassius,” she murmured.

At the sound of their voices Cassius stirred, blinking sleepily.

“You’re all here,” he mumbled.

“How are you doing?” said Adrian hoarsely.

“Better,” said Cassius. He was more alert now. “My parents were here, right?”

“They’ll be back soon,” said Ursula. “They said they would visit again at lunch.”

Cassius nodded.

“Our booklists came today,” said Lilian. “So when you’re better, we can all go shopping together.”

Cassius grinned.

“I’d like that,” he said. He rolled his head towards Ursula. “Please tell me you’re Head Girl.”

She laughed.

“I am,” she said, nodding.

“Good. I knew you would be,” said Cassius. He looked around at them all. “I’m glad you’re all here, but I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You know we will,” said Lilian fiercely. “But you’re safe now, and you’ll be alright, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“I love you guys,” said Cassius.

~~~

A few days later, when Cassius had recovered, they made good on their promise to shop in Diagon Alley together. As it was their seventh year, this would be the last time they shopped for school supplies, plus they needed a few extra things.

“How, exactly, are graduation robes different from normal robes?” said Lilian, as they all went to Madam Malkin’s to get fitted.

Adrian shrugged.

“Graduation robes come with the little hat?” he said. “And we get special badges to wear on them?”

That was the best answer any of them could come up with.

“Alright, what books do we need this year?” said Cassius, as they entered Flourish & Blotts, which was as crowded as usual. “I need a new copy of  _ Useful Charms and Charming Uses _ .”

“ _ Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7 _ ,” said Ursula. “And  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ and the new Alchemy textbook. Oh, and Professor McGonagall told me I should get a special Transfiguration book.”

Lilian snorted.

“Who’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” she asked.

“Dolores Umbridge,” answered Ursula. “She’s the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. I don’t know much about her.”

“My father knows her,” said Cassius. “She’s really uptight, I think, but he seemed pleased that she was picked as the new teacher.”

“Interesting,” said Lilian, grabbing a copy of her new Muggle Studies book. “Have you guys noticed how the  _ Daily Prophet _ isn’t, like, actually reporting anything?”

“There was nothing on Cedric,” said Ursula. “All summer, when things have happened, the Ministry hasn’t said a word.”

“That’s not a good sign,” said Adrian. “Denial just leads to unpreparedness.”

“Or worse,” said Lilian darkly.

“Let’s try to stay positive,” said Cassius. “It’s our seventh year, after all. It’s bound to be a good one.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” said Ursula. “Honestly, after the years we’ve been through.”

They all laughed.

“What would it be like to attend a peaceful school?” wondered Lilian.

“We’d probably say it was boring,” said Adrian.

“Before long we’ll be applying for jobs,” said Ursula, wrinkling her nose. “We are all of age now.”

“I thought you were excited to become a dragonologist,” said Cassius. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost interest, because I won’t believe you.”

“No, I haven’t lost interest,” said Ursula. “But being a proper adult is frightening.”

“I agree,” said Lilian. “Plus, our NEWTs are going to make our OWLs look easy.”

“Merlin, I hadn’t even thought about those,” said Cassius, frowning. “I’m not looking forward to spending my last year studying.”

“I’m sure you’ll find time to procrastinate,” teased Ursula. “But I’ll keep you on track.”

Cassius chuckled and they went to pay for their books, all feeling strangely apprehensive about their last year of school.

~~~

Meanwhile, back at Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s advice about choosing sides was starting to come into play. Ursula asked no questions when Lucius started to have powerful friends over for dinner, friends who Ursula knew had been involved in the last war. She played her part during dinner parties and helped Narcissa entertain their wives after dinner, playing bridge and talking about insignificant queries until the men returned from the drawing room.

Shortly before she was set to return to Hogwarts, Ursula and Hadrian decided it was time to revisit their agreement. She told him, in the vaguest possible terms, that she had agreed to help Professor Dumbledore and he promised to keep her informed of changes at the Ministry. They also agreed to commit themselves to their fake relationship while Ursula was away at school, and have Hadrian visit on Hogsmeade weekends to keep up the facade.

September first arrived, and Ursula and the Malfoys made it to King’s Cross Station in a timely manner, accompanied by Hadrian, who had come to see Ursula off. Draco was already wearing his Prefect badge, and had his chest puffed out in pride as he walked around to show it off to his friends.

“Have a good year,” said Narcissa, hugging Ursula. “It’s your last, so be sure to enjoy it alright? We’re hosting the Christmas Eve ball this year, at Malfoy Manor, so there’s lots to look forward to.”

“Have a good term,” said Lucius.

“Here, let me carry your trunk onto the train,” said Hadrian. Ursula picked up Agatha’s cage and Betelguese’s basket and followed Hadrian onto the scarlet steam engine.

“I can carry my own trunk, you know,” she said lightly.

“But it’s the gentlemanly thing to do,” said Hadrian, teasing her. “Besides, I wanted to get you out of earshot of your aunt and uncle for a moment.”

“Oh?” said Ursula.

“That Umbridge woman, your new professor, is almost certainly part of the Ministry’s plan to have more control over Hogwarts,” said Hadrian in an undertone, as students rushed past them.

“Oh,” said Ursula, frowning.

“I’ll keep you posted if I learn more,” promised Hadrian. Putting on fake smiles, they both exited the train, and Hadrian hugged Ursula and gave her a kiss goodbye. Before she boarded the Hogwarts Express for real, Ursula spotted Remus Lupin, her cousin, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, and a dog she was positive was Sirius bounding around a whole group of Weasleys.

“Honestly,” she muttered to herself.

“What was that?” said Narcissa.

“Nothing,” said Ursula, smiling. “Well, I’d best be off. I’ll see you at Christmas. Goodbye.”

She boarded the train, heading for the front carriage to prepare for the prefects’ meeting, her mind still occupied with worries. If someone spotted Sirius and put two and two together…

~~~

Rumina Hayes was well aware that her emotions tended to get the better of her. However, it really wasn’t the most practical thing, so she’d worked on controlling it as she grew up. Most of the time, she was perfectly able to convince herself to step back and look at the situation logically.

This was not one of those times.

“Where the fuck have you been all summer?!”

Fred and George blanched at the voice that came from behind them, and turned to face her with matching guilty expressions.

“I haven’t gotten a response to any of my letters all summer from either of you!” exclaimed Rue.

Fred and George both opened their mouths to explain, but neither actually spoke.

“Well?” demanded Rue. “Are you even going to try to dig yourselves out of this hole or are you just going to stand there?”

“It’s, er, quite astonishing how similar to Mum you manage to sound,” said Fred, trying and failing to make a joke. That only made Rue more upset, that he could think a time like this was right for joking.

“God! Do you really not now how to read a fucking room?” said Rue. “Apparently I need to spell it out for you. I am royally pissed at you and if you’re not even going to try and explain yourselves, then I won’t waste my time.”

She turned, ready to storm off.

“Look, we’re really sorry —” Fred started.

“— but it wasn’t our choice,” finished George.

“What does that even mean?!” Their answer only exasperates Rue further.

“You found them! Great job, Rue.”

A familiar mess of dreadlocks made its way through the mass of students trying to find carriages, and soon Lee emerged from the crowd, sending a quick smile to Rue before turning to the twins with an unfamiliar serious expression on his face.

“Hey, what the fuck guys? We were supposed to work on plans this summer and then you go and ghost both of us?” He motioned to himself and Rue.

“Oh no wait, but it wasn’t their fault Lee,” said Rue in a mocking tone. “They didn’t have a choice,” she added, making quotation marks with her fingers.

“Guys, come on, we’re serious,” said George, crossing his arms. “We really weren’t allowed to send anything, or we would’ve written.”

Rue just gave him an unimpressed look.

“Since when has someone telling you not to do something ever actually stopped you?”

“Since it was serious, alright!” burst out Fred all of a sudden.

Rue was taken aback by this sudden burst of honesty. She had never known either twin to take anything too seriously. While frustrating at times (see two minutes ago), this was also one of the things she most admired about them. They were always able to find the light in a situation so to see Fred so sobered, well, Rue didn’t know what to think.

“Look, if it’s serious, then tell us and we could help.” Lee’s voice was much softer now and more understanding. “We’re your friends, you can trust us.”

“We’re really sorry, but we… we can’t share this secret,” said George. “It’s not ours, and we’re not allowed. Come on, let’s go find a compartment.” Their little commotion was squarely in the middle of the corridor and some nervous looking underclassmen were waiting a ways off. “We do have some news that we can tell you.”

Rue, however, seemed not to care.

“You can’t trust us with this? Since when have you not been able to trust us? What, is this about your damn crush on the pureblood princess?” she bit out.

“Do  _ not _ talk about Ursula like that! You don’t know a fraction of what’s really going on,” Fred spat back. At this point they had attracted a few looks. Lee and George were both tense, nervous at how the situation had escalated.

“Exactly, but apparently you wouldn’t care to enlighten me!” Rue was practically shaking with emotion and adrenaline, but as she looked at the boys across from her, they both looked remorsefully still. She took a deep breath and huffed it out. “Whatever, I’m done trying to talk with you two. Lee, you can stay here and deal with this if you want but I’m going to sit with people who actually  _ trust _ me.”

Rue turned on her heel and tried to walk away, but a hand caught her arm.

“Rue, please,” George’s voice registered. Rue’s whole body had gone tense with the contact but she whipped her head around to deliver the most fiery glare she could manage.

“Do NOT touch me.”

She ripped her arm from his grasp and stormed away. Such was her fury that she didn’t look where she was going, until she had nearly collided with the person she least wanted to see.

“What’s got you so upset?” said Ursula.

“Like you care,” scoffed Rue. Her insufferable cool gaze, how she was always calm and collected, and the way she had almost everyone at school at her beck and call yet seemed not to care only infuriated Rue further.

“Times are hard,” said Ursula. “For all of us.”

“Just get out of my way,” muttered Rue, pushing past her.

~~~

After receiving a harsh glare from Rue, Ursula brushed it off and continued up the train, passing an upset pair of Weasley twins and Lee. She decided not to interfere and finally reached the prefects’ carriage, where the Head Boy, Ravenclaw Lewis Carter, was already waiting.

Lewis was smart, hardworking, and good with the younger students, so it made sense to choose him to be Head Boy, but they both knew it was supposed to be Cedric.

“Hello,” said Ursula. She and Lewis shook hands. “It’s nice to see you here.”

“You as well,” said Lewis. “Here’s the list of new prefects.”

“Ah, thank you,” said Ursula. “Shall we go ahead and write the patrol schedule before they arrive?”

“Excellent idea,” said Lewis.

Using a piece of parchment, they wrote out the names of the prefects and who should patrol when. They decided to pair the fifth year prefects together, and then wrote out the rotating schedule of who was supposed to patrol on Sundays.

“Er,” said Lewis awkwardly. “What about, er, Cedric’s spots?”

Ursula bit her lip.

“I’ll take it,” she said. “It’s okay, I’ll patrol on his nights too.”

“If you’re sure,” said Lewis, tapping the parchment with his wand. The train was moving fast now, so that the houses outside the windows flashed past. The prefects started to arrive, and Ursula and Lewis greeted them as they came in.

“Ah, Anthony, Padma,” said Lewis, when the two Ravenclaw fifth years entered. “Ursula, this is Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil.”

“It’s a pleasure,” said Ursula. Anthony and Padma smiled at her and sat down. “Let’s see, we’re only missing —”

“I’m here!” said Cassius, the last of the prefects to enter. The new prefects stared at him, slightly alarmed. It became apparent that he, being very muscular, very tall, and carrying the scar he’d gotten over the summer, was very intimidating. “Sorry I’m late, but Poppy got loose and I had to catch her.”

“I understand,” said Ursula. “Please, take a seat.”

Cassius sat, completing their group. Ursula noticed that the prefects were grouped by age, with the seventh years in the middle, as if in the place of honor. The fifth years included Draco and Pansy, looking smug and self-important, Hermione Granger, who, like the Hufflepuff next to her, looked very pleased and excited that they were there, and Ron Weasley, who looked like he had no idea what he was doing there.

“Welcome, all of you,” said Ursula. “As you know, I am Ursula Black, your Head Girl. The Head Boy, Lewis Carter, and I, are looking forward to a successful year. In this meeting, we will discuss the duties that come with being a prefect, and at the end you will all have a chance to ask questions.”

“Prefects are expected to patrol the corridors from nine to eleven,” said Lewis. “Nine is curfew for first through fourth years and ten is curfew for everyone else. Each of you will be required to patrol one night a week, plus on alternate Sundays. Ursula and I have outlined a patrol schedule and you can look at it after the meeting.”

“Prefects have the power to take points away from fellow students, except for fellow prefects. However,” said Ursula sternly, “any prefect found to be abusing their powers is subject to punishment from Lewis or myself, as well as of course the professors at school. In extreme cases, a prefect may lose their badge.”

“Other prefect duties include watching over the younger students during bad weather and decorating the castle for holidays,” said Lewis. “As a perk, there is a special bathroom on the fifth floor, located behind the fourth door to the left of Boris the Bewildered, for your use and your use only. The current password is ‘lavender leaf.’”

“Lastly, prefects should be aware that their grades and behavior as a whole are a reflection of the school,” said Ursula. “You were chosen for your character, and you must remain a positive role model for your fellow students. Now, are there any questions?”

Hermione’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Hermione,” said Ursula.

“If we catch a student out of bed after curfew, what exactly is the recommended punishment?” said Hermione. “And are we to escort them back to their common room?”

“Both are up to the discretion of the prefect,” said Ursula. “Depending on the lateness the student in question is out and how often you’ve caught them, plus perhaps whatever held them up, you can take ten or twenty points away. I would advise against more than that unless the circumstances are extraordinary, and as for making sure they return to their common room you may, although you might find yourself on rather a long walk.”

“Any other questions?” said Lewis.

“What rule breaking is grounds for detention?” asked Hermione immediately. She continued to pepper them with questions for several minutes, which Ursula and Lewis did their best to answer. When she had finally reached the end, Ursula and Lewis dismissed everyone.

“If you would all patrol the corridors once every half an hour or so, that would be excellent,” said Lewis. All of the prefects filed up to take a look at the patrol schedule, and then a few stayed behind to sit in the carriage while the majority left to find their other friends.

“Don’t let this go to your head,” murmured Ursula, catching Draco’s elbow. “I won’t be lenient if I find out you take unnecessary points away from your fellow students, and they won’t like you for it.”

“Why tell me now?” muttered Draco.

“Because I know you,” replied Ursula. Draco stalked off.

Ursula accompanied Cassius back to the compartment where all of their friends were sitting.

“You’re turning into quite the Head Girl,” teased Cassius. “Everyone seems quite eager to follow your lead.”

“Not everyone,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes.

~~~

It was dark, as usual, when they arrived at Hogwarts, and were carried through the gates in rickety carriages drawn by thestrals to the front doors. The entrance hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.

The four long House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other Houses, eyeing one another’s new haircuts and robes.

“Hagrid’s missing,” remarked Ursula, as she sat down at the Slytherin table. “How peculiar.”

“Is he?” said Adrian, craning his neck.

“If you have to crane your neck to look for him, then obviously,” said Lilian. “I wonder where he’s gone.”

Beside Professor Dumbledore, who was sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the center of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat, sat a witch who Ursula had no doubt was Dolores Umbridge. She looked rather like someone’s maiden aunt. She was squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a pink headband that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes.

“She looks dreadful,” muttered Lilian.

Just then, Professor Grubbly-Plank joined the end of the staff table, meaning the first years had indeed crossed the lake. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors to the entrance hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard’s hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back. The first years’ faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling.

The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat’s brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

_ In times of old when I was new _

_ And Hogwarts barely started _

_ The founders of our noble school _

_ Thought never to be parted: _

_ United by a common goal, _

_ They had the selfsame yearning, _

_ To make the world’s best magic school _

_ And pass along their learning. _

_ “Together we will build and teach!” _

_ The four good friends decided _

_ And never did they dream that they _

_ Might someday be divided, _

_ For were there such friends anywhere _

_ As Slytherin and Gryffndor? _

_ Unless it was the second pair _

_ Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw? _

_ So how could it have gone so wrong? _

_ How could such friendships fail? _

_ Why, I was there and so can tell _

_ The whole sad, sorry tale. _

_ Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those _

_ Whose ancestry is purest.” _

_ Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose _

_ Intelligence is surest.” _

_ Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those _

_ With brave deeds to their name.” _

_ Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot, _

_ And treat them just the same.” _

_ These differences caused little strife _

_ When first they came to light, _

_ For each of the four founders had _

_ A House in which they might _

_ Take only those they wanted, so, _

_ For instance, Slytherin _

_ Took only pure-blood wizards _

_ Of great cunning, just like him, _

_ And only those of sharpest mind _

_ Were taught by Ravenclaw _

_ While the bravest and the boldest _

_ Went to daring Gryffindor. _

_ Good Hufflepujf she took the rest, _

_ And taught them all she knew, _

_ Thus the Houses and their founders _

_ Retained friendships firm and true. _

_ So Hogwarts worked in harmony _

_ For several happy years, _

_ But then discord crept among us _

_ Feeding on our faults and fears. _

_ The Houses that, like pillars four, _

_ Had once held up our school, _

_ Now turned upon each other and, _

_ Divided, sought to rule. _

_ And for a while it seemed the school _

_ Must meet an early end, _

_ What with dueling and with fighting _

_ And the clash of friend on friend _

_ And at last there came a morning _

_ When old Slytherin departed _

_ And though the fighting then died out _

_ He left us quite downhearted. _

_ And never since the founders four _

_ Were whittled down to three _

_ Have the Houses been united _

_ As they once were meant to be. _

_ And now the Sorting Hat is here _

_ And you all know the score: _

_ I sort you into Houses _

_ Because that is what I’m for, _

_ But this year I’ll go further, _

_ Listen closely to my song: _

_ Though condemned I am to split you _

_ Still I worry that it’s wrong, _

_ Though I must fulfill my duty _

_ And must quarter every year _

_ Still I wonder whether sorting _

_ May not bring the end I fear. _

_ Oh, know the perils, read the signs, _

_ The warning history shows, _

_ For our Hogwarts is in danger _

_ From external, deadly foes _

_ And we must unite inside her _

_ Or we’ll crumble from within. _

_ I have told you, I have warned you… _

_ Let the Sorting now begin. _

“Honestly, why make us out to be the enemy?” muttered Cassius, as the hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors and Ursula, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about. “At the time Hogwarts was founded, there were witch hunts threatening us, so it made perfect sense to keep magic in a small group.”

“I think the Hat’s trying to bring us together,” said Lilian. “Although perhaps insulting Slytherin is not the way to go if it wants us to be open to unity.”

The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts Houses and its own role in sorting them. Ursula wondered when was the last time it had given advice.

“Still,” she said, “it does make sense to warn us of what may be coming. We would all do well to get along with the other houses, even if some of them don’t make it easy.”

Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first years’ names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches, curbing the murmurs into silence. With a last frowning look that swept the four House tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out, “Abercrombie, Euan.”

The terrified-looking boy stumbled forward and put the hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted, “ _ GRYFFINDOR _ !”

Slowly the long line of first years thinned; Vanessa’s cousin, Charles, was sorted into Slytherin, as was Cassius’s last sibling and youngest sister, Prucilla. Finally, “Zeller, Rose” was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

“To our newcomers,” said Professor Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, “welcome! To our old hands — welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Professor Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate — for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.

“We’ll have to hold tryouts right away,” said Adrian. “This weekend, if we can manage it.”

“Are you serious?” said Cassius.

“Of course,” said Adrian, swallowing. “We need to get the team in shape, after all, if we are to have any chance of beating Gryffindor. We need new Beaters.”

“I doubt we’ll find any as good as Peregrine and Lucian,” said Ursula. “But I agree; the sooner we have a full team, the better.”

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” said Professor Dumbledore. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time —”

“What, does he keep count?” said Cassius under his breath.

“— to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door,” said Professor Dumbledore. “We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause during which Ursula frowned; Professor Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching. Professor Dumbledore continued, “Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —”

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Professor Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, “ _ Hem, hem _ ,” and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

“ _ What _ is she doing?” whispered Vanessa. “Absolutely improper.”

Professor Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout’s eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall’s mouth was as thin as Ursula had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge simpered, “for those kind words of welcome.”

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. She gave another little throat clearing cough (“ _ Hem, hem _ ”) and continued: “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!”

Ursula raised a derisive eyebrow. Every face she could see looked rather taken aback at being addressed to as if they were five years old.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall’s dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Ursula distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little “ _ Hem, hem _ ” and went on with her speech.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…”

Ursula maintained attentiveness throughout Professor Umbridge’s speech, although many of her fellow students did not. Lilian yawned obviously, and Cassius’s eyes had glassed over. Though Professor Umbridge’s droning tone was anything but captivating, Ursula thought paying attention was crucial if she was to pick up any clues as to why Professor Umbridge was here. Only Gemma seemed to feel the same.

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Ursula had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. Only the teachers, herself, and a few of the prefects and other high achieving students were still paying attention, something that would have never happened if Professor Dumbledore was speaking.

“… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

She sat down. Professor Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Professor Dumbledore had stood up again.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” he said, bowing to her. “Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“Well, that was all very interesting,” said Ursula in an undertone.

“Was it?” said Adrian. “I swear, it went in one ear and out the other.”

There was a great clattering and banging all around them as Professor Dumbledore dismissed the school.

“She might be the worst one we’ve ever had,” muttered Cassius, as the Great Hall slowly emptied. “At least Moody was competent, even if he was a Death Eater.”

“Oh, she’s awful alright,” murmured Ursula in reply. “Which is why a good first impression is everything.”

“Ursula, where are you — Ursula!” Cassius called, as Ursula wound her way through the crowd towards the stout witch clad all in pink, her pleasant smile usually reserved for unpleasant tea parties sliding into place.

“Excuse me, Professor Umbridge?” said Ursula. Professor Umbridge turned, giving her a toadlike smile. “My name is Ursula Black and I am the Head Girl. I just wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, Ms. Black,” said Professor Umbridge. “Your uncle has told me such good things about you. Will I be seeing you in my class?”

“Yes, and I’m quite looking forward to it,” said Ursula. “I want to do well on my NEWTs, after all.”

Professor Umbridge nodded approvingly.

“Quite right,” she said.

“Well I won’t hold you up, but I thought I ought to introduce myself,” said Ursula. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor, and please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

“Suck up,” hissed Cassius, as Ursula rejoined him and they left the Great Hall.

“You’ll thank me later. You know the game as well as I do, Warrington,” said Ursula. “I’m going to play. Are you?”

Cassius groaned.

“Bloody hell, Ursula,” he said. “Do you always wax poetic challenges or just for me?”

“Just for you, Cassius darling,” said Ursula with a wink. “But in all honesty, don’t get on her bad side. I have a feeling she can be pretty nasty.”

“Well, you’re the boss,” said Cassius. “After all, you  _ are _ the Head Girl.”

“Oh shut up,” said Ursula, though she was grinning.

“Your wish is my command,” said Cassius with a laugh and he gestured for her to lead the way down to the dungeons.


	74. Professor Umbridge

“Well… it’s not a terrible turnout,” said Adrian, looking at the four students who had turned up to try out for the beater positions, none of whom had quite the same energy or build as Peregrine and Lucian had. By comparison, there were seven hopefuls for chaser and three for keeper, plus two students there to try out for the reserve seeker position.

“Who knows, they might surprise you,” said Ursula. She, Adrian, and Draco were the only returning members of the team, and he wasn’t making them try out again.

“Let’s start with the chasers,” said Adrian. He blew his whistle for silence. “Alright! We’re going to start with the chasers, so I want all of you to mount your brooms and follow Ursula.”

Ursula soared into the sky, leading the group of Slytherins as she wove in and out of the goalposts and rounded the corners at top speed. Adrian blew his whistle and she landed hard in front of him.

“Travers, Barnes, you’re out,” said Adrian. The two boys, a third year and a fourth year, scowled but he didn’t give them time to protest. “The rest of you, you’re going to take turns scoring on the keepers.” He pointed at the huddle of hopeful keepers. “Derrick, you first.”

Guinevere Derrick, Peregrine’s younger sister, squared her shoulders and flew up to defend the goalposts as one by one the chasers tried to score on her. After her, Vanessa’s younger brother Oliver went, and then sixth year Graham Montague rounded out the group.

“Right,” said Adrian. “Montague, you’re the new keeper, and Derrick, you’re the reserve.”

Oliver slumped off the pitch, to be comforted by Vanessa, while Graham and Guinevere went to join Draco on the sidelines. Adrian turned back to the chasers.

“Vaisey, you’re out,” he said. Simon Vaisey looked upset, but left without complaint. “The rest of you, your last test is to try not to get hit by a Bludger. Warrington, Goyle, you’re up.”

Of the four prospective beaters, there was Cassius’s brother Marcellus, a fourth year who didn’t have his brother’s muscular build but was lean and quick, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, two of Draco’s friends who lumbered around, and a tiny second year named Colin who was Graham’s younger brother, and who could barely hold the bat.

“When you tell him he didn’t make it, be nice,” murmured Ursula in Adrian’s ear.

“I’m sorry Colin, you’re just not quite ready yet,” said Adrian kindly, when Colin indeed failed to hit any of the chasers, only hit a Bludger once, and was nearly killed by another one. “But keep practicing, and maybe you’ll make the team in a year or two.”

“Very nice,” said Ursula.

“Okay, so that means that out of you three,” said Adrian, pointing to the beaters, “two of you will make the team and one of you will be the reserve. Now, as for the chasers, Warrington, you’re the new chaser, and Higgs, you’re the reserve. Zabini, you played very well and next year you could easily make the team.”

Blaise Zabini nodded and left the pitch. Cassius high fived Ursula.

“I knew you could do it,” she said. “I think you scared your competition. Most of them were expecting you to try to be a beater.”

“I like to be unpredictable,” said Cassius with a chuckle. “But be careful — someone might accuse you or Adrian of favoritism.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” said Ursula, and she turned back to watch the seekers tryout.

Adrian decided not to make Draco try out again, and only Cassius’s sister Aurelia and Amos Rowle had come to try out to be the reserve. Adrian had them try to catch the Snitch while the prospective beaters hit Bludgers at them, and Aurelia managed it without being hit once.

“Right, Warrington, you’re the reserve,” said Adrian. “And, er, Warrington, you’re a beater.”

Cassius high fived his younger siblings as they went to stand proudly by him.

“Er, Crabbe, you’re the other beater and Goyle, you’re the reserve,” said Adrian finally, with a rather meaningful pause before he announced their names. “Well done, everyone, our first practice is on Wednesday.”

He walked over to Ursula and Cassius, and the three of them left the Quidditch Pitch together, broomsticks in hand.

“I like how your brother plays,” said Adrian, “but I wouldn’t have picked the others if there had been  _ any _ other candidates.”

“There weren’t,” Ursula reminded him. “Well, aside from poor Colin. Hopefully Crabbe will shape up during practice. I can protect myself from Bludgers but we do need him to hit the other team, on occasion.”

“The other thing is, how will we deal with two Warringtons?” said Adrian. “Much less three, if Aurelia ever plays. Jordan will have a hell of a time keeping track.”

“He’ll manage,” said Cassius.

~~~

Monday morning, the seventh years arrived in the Great Hall to find that the sky outside was dark grey, promising rain later on. Thankfully, the mood inside was more pleasant, for most of the students.

“Budge up,” snapped Cassius, forcing a group of third years to move down a bit further so he could sit beside Ursula.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” asked Ursula, handing him a slice of toast.

“Alexander’s toad, Archibald,” said Cassius, throwing a glare at his fellow Slytherin and roommate in question. “He croaked for  _ two hours _ last night, and Alexander wouldn’t let me put a Silencing Charm on him.”

“So? What’d you do?” said Lilian, taking a bite of her porridge.

“I stunned Alexander, and then his toad,” said Cassius, downing a glass or orange juice. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“You can’t stun your fellow students or their pets, Cass,” said Ursula, mixing fruit into her yoghurt. “Don’t make me take points away from you.”

“You’d never,” said Cassius.

“Oh yeah?” challenged Ursula. “Try me.”

With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside already.

“Just what I always wanted,” said Ursula dryly, as her  _ Daily Prophet _ was delivered. “A soggy newspaper.”

“Adrian, get him off,” said Cassius. He was holding very still. Adrian’s very confused, very stupid, and very wet owl, Nimrod, had just landed directly on Cassius’s head. “I said,  _ get him off _ .”

“Nimrod, you great idiot,” said Adrian, as Lilian collapsed into a fit of giggles. “Cassius, you’ll have to, er, lean over.”

Cassius looked mutinous. Ursula, barely repressing her own giggles, said, “Wait, let me.”

“Hold on,” said Lilian, digging furiously around inside her bag. “Wait just a — got it!”

She pulled out her camera and quickly snapped a picture of a disgruntled Cassius with Nimrod perched awkwardly on his head. Ursula quickly picked Nimrod up before any more harm — to Cassius — could be done.

“Anything interesting?” asked Vanessa.

“Nothing new in the paper,” said Ursula, though she could barely read the soggy print. She would have thought that the Ministry would have protections against such things. “I got a letter from Hadrian, though.”

“Already?” said Vanessa, smirking. “He must miss you.”

“Not really,” said Ursula. “I mean, I do miss him and I’m sure he misses me, but I’d asked him to find something out before I left, so this is just an answer.”

“May we know what you asked?” said Gemma.

“I wanted him to find out more about why Professor Umbridge was hired, that’s all,” said Ursula.

“Ah, schedules are here,” said Adrian, passing them out to the others. “Ha! I only have to go to one class today, and it’s in sixth period!”

“Lucky you,” said Gemma dryly. “Right, I’m off to Arithmancy. Vanessa?”

“I’ll meet you there,” said Vanessa.

“Suit yourself,” replied Gemma, as she got up to leave.

“You can use all that time off to plan Quidditch strategies,” said Ursula.

“You joke, but I’m going to do that,” said Adrian. “I want to play professionally, which means we need to win. Also, I want to crush Gryffindor.”

“Hear, hear,” said Cassius.

After a free period where the Slytherins lounged around their common room, deservedly doing nothing, Ursula left for History of Magic. The rough dozen seventh years in the class were scattered around the room, all with their quills at the ready as Professor Binns prepared to lecture on wizard politics, starting with Artemisia Lufkin in 1798, the first female Minister for Magic.

“This is your NEWT year, is it not?” said Professor Binns, surprising them all, as he rarely addressed the class other than to give them homework. “Your NEWTs determine what careers you may have when you graduate, making them the most important tests you will ever take.”

With that short speech, he turned back to the chalkboard, where a list of the past Ministers for Magic appeared. Ursula began to take notes, suppressing anxiety over her NEWTs, which were months away. At the end of the double period, Professor Binns dismissed them, assigning two scrolls of parchment on which of the Ministers in the early 19th century they thought was the most influential.

“How was your morning off?” asked Ursula, as she and Gemma arrived at lunch.

“Magnificent, thanks for asking,” said Cassius jovially. “Did you get a lot of homework?”

“Two scrolls for History of Magic,” said Gemma irritably. “And I have an entire chart to complete for Arithmancy.”

“Good luck with that,” said Cassius, unbothered. He seemed to have recovered from his ordeal with Nimrod that morning.

After lunch, Ursula went down to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. It was still pouring outside, so she opened her umbrella and hurried across the castle grounds. Professor Grubbly-Plank led her and the other three students into the forest, where the thick trees lightened up the rain, and pointed to a wooden box she had set out.

“We’ll start off with bowtruckles,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. “They’re complex creatures, so they’re worth reviewing. I expect a drawing of your selected bowtruckle by the end of class, and ten inches on their habitat due Wednesday.”

“Who put salt in your tea?” muttered Ursula to Rue as they both reached into the box to pick up a bowtruckle.

“Just shut up,” snapped Rue in reply. She had a sour look on her face and was pointedly ignoring the Weasley twins.

“You know, they weren’t at home a lot this summer,” said Ursula as casually as she could, trying to get to the bottom of what was irritating Rue. “I couldn’t say where, but they were stuck there all summer.”

“Tell someone who cares, because I fucking don’t,” said Rue sourly, her scowl deepening. She muttered something in Welsh.

“This isn’t a joke, you know,” snapped Ursula in reply. “They didn’t just abandon you for no reason. Things are serious now, and changing fast —”

“What?” said Rue, whirling around. “What things? No one will fucking tell me what’s going on! I don’t want to hear any bloody excuses, least of all from  _ you _ .”

“War,” said Ursula, her face stony. “War is coming. Cedric —” Her voice hitched “— Cedric’s death was just the beginning. If you’re so bloody oblivious that you can’t even notice —” She took a deep breath. “You just don’t understand.”

She stalked away, bowtruckle in hand, leaving Rue glaring after her unable to retort.

All summer, Ursula had been grappling with Cedric’s death. She hadn’t expected that the hardest things to get over were the little things that happened every day. After Care of Magical Creatures, she walked into Charms, only to find Cassius staring hollowly at the empty desk that used to belong to Cedric. No one sat in it.

The same thing happened in Potions, where the desk directly in the middle was left untouched and unoccupied. It was as if someone sitting there would erase Cedric or admit that he was gone, and no one, not one of the seventh years, even those who didn’t know him well, would do that.

The worst for Ursula was Transfiguration. She breezed into the classroom after double Alchemy and froze in her tracks. The desks in Transfiguration sat two people each. Before, there had been an even number of students, so everyone had a partner. Now…

Ursula and Cedric had been Transfiguration partners since first year. They always sat in the front row, in the middle. They were the top students in the class. They were among a small group that had gotten an Outstanding on their OWL. They had always, always worked together. They had worked so well together.

Now Ursula sat alone at one end of the table, not even letting any of her stuff slide over to Cedric’s side.

“Ms. Black?” said Professor McGonagall kindly, standing in front of her desk. “If you would like to join another group, you may, but you are also welcome to work alone.”

“I’ll work… alone,” said Ursula, having to force the last word out. “I’m not partnering with anyone else."

“Very well,” said Professor McGonagall. She returned to the front of the class, and the whole room fell silent. “This is your last year here at Hogwarts, and I advise you not to waste it.”

Behind Ursula, Fred and George exchanged grins. She had heard them discussing the ‘market research’ they were planning to do.

“At the end of this year, you will take your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests,” said Professor McGonagall. “These tests are of the utmost importance, as they determine much of your eligibility for your career path once you leave school. Just as you received career advice before your OWLs, you will meet throughout the year with your Head of House to help you apply for a job.”

Lilian scowled. Ursula could imagine what Professor Snape would say when she repeated her desire to work with Muggles.

“You surely all remember the effort it took to pass your OWLs,” said Professor McGonagall. Several students groaned. “Your NEWTs will take twice the determination, practice, and serious application of all you have learned during your time at Hogwarts. In the time between then and now, your professors will do all we can to prepare you. The work will not be easy in my class or any other, but there is no reason that every one of you should not achieve a NEWT in Transfiguration if you put the necessary work in.”

Ursula did her best not to look at Cedric’s empty seat anymore as Professor McGonagall began to lecture and she took notes.

On Wednesday, Ursula and the other seventh years had their first taste of Professor Umbridge. They had heard plenty about her from their fellow students — mostly, if not entirely, complaints — none of which made Ursula look forward to double Defense Against the Dark Arts.

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher’s desk. She was wearing a pale pink cardigan with an ugly broach and had a large black velvet bow in her hair. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

“Good morning,” she said, when the entire class had arrived. Nearly everyone in their year was taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, so the classroom was quite crowded and normally quite rowdy.

“Good morning,” said Ursula brightly in reply, accompanied by only a handful of others. Professor Umbridge pursed her lips.

“Well,  _ that  _ won’t do, now will it?” she said. “I would like you to reply ‘Good morning, Professor Umbridge.’ Let’s try this again. Good morning, class!”

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted in reply. Professor Umbridge was rapidly going down in their estimations, and she hadn’t even begun to teach yet. Fred and George, who had taken seats unusually in the front row, shared a malicious grin and snickered.

“Much better,” simpered Professor Umbridge. “Wands away and quills out, please. You will be taking notes this lesson.”

Much of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order ‘wands away’ had almost never been followed by a lesson they enjoyed. Ursula got out her quill, ink, and parchment, setting her textbook on her desk with a thump. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

_ Defense Against the Dark Arts _

_ A Return to Basic Principles. _

“With the rather disrupted teaching you have had on this subject so far, and the continued change in teachers, many of whom did not obey a Ministry-approved curriculum, the result is that most of you are well below the standard that is expected of NEWT students,” said Professor Umbridge. “You will be pleased, then, to know that these problems are being rectified. To ensure your success on your NEWT examination, we will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic down this year. Please copy down the following.”

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by another:

_ Course aims: _

  * _Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._


  * Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.


  * Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.



Ursula dutifully copied down the course aims, noting with irritation that the actual  _ practice  _ of defensive magic was never mentioned. The same thought had occurred to many of her classmates.

“Er, Professor?” said Cassius, raising his hand.

“Yes, Mr…?” said Professor Umbridge.

“Warrington, Professor,” said Cassius.

“What is your question, Mr. Warrington?” asked Professor Umbridge.

“Well, among your course aims there is nothing about  _ using  _ defensive magic,” said Cassius. Professor Umbridge frowned, pursing her lips tightly together. “The only thing is, there is a practical portion of our NEWT, isn’t there?”

“The Ministry and I believe that you will be sufficiently prepared if you have studied the theory hard enough,” said Professor Umbridge.

“Without  _ ever  _ having practiced them before?” said Lilian incredulously. “For our NEWT?”

“Hand, Miss —”

“Fenharrow,” snapped Lilian. Across the room, Lee’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Mr…?”

“Jordan,” said Lee. “And what about in the real world? How are we going to defend ourselves without any sort of practice?”

“Mr. Jordan, what ever would you have the need to defend yourself against?” said Professor Umbridge, her voice breathy and high pitched.

“What about what happened during the third task?” said Fred hotly.

“Yeah, if Harry’s telling the truth —” said George.

“The events of last June have been widely overstated with no evidence to support Mr. Potter’s account,” said Professor Umbridge through gritted teeth.

“What happened to Cedric then?” exclaimed Rue. “Do you have a fucking excuse for that?”

“Language, Ms. —”

“Hayes,” said Rue. “If, by your account, we have nothing to worry about, then what the bloody hell happened?”

“Ten points from Ravenclaw for your language, Ms. Hayes, and Mr. Diggory’s death was a _ tragic accident _ and nothing more,” said Professor Umbridge, trying very hard to keep control. “The next person to speak out of turn will receive detention, do I make myself clear?”

Ursula hadn’t even realized that her hands were shaking or that she’d snapped her quill until she looked down as Professor Umbridge assigned them the first two chapters of  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ .

Truth be told, very few students actually believed Harry’s version of accounts. No one wanted to accept that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back or consider the implications. They had witnessed so little of the third task, and Professor Dumbledore’s explanation hadn’t sunk in before they were all sent home for the summer, where many spent their time hearing stories from the Daily Prophet that gave contrary explanations for what had occured and largely glossed over Cedric’s death altogether.

Strangely enough, it was the Slytherins themselves who knew the most of what really happened, other than Harry, yet they were the ones who perpetuated the most rumors and insisted that the Ministry’s account was true. There was a simple explanation for this: children with parents who were Death Eaters certainly didn’t want anyone to know, and it was far easier to keep such a secret hidden if they denied everything.

But Ursula knew, and Cassius knew, and Vanessa knew some of what was really going on. It was only a select but substantial group of Slytherins who had ties to the Dark Lord, which none of them were foolish enough to show off, even Draco, whom Ursula feared bought too much into his father’s beliefs.

Not long after the class had fallen silent to take notes, Ursula could have sworn she saw Fred reach into his bag and pop something orange into his mouth.

“Er, Professor?” said Fred, rising to his feet. “I don’t feel —”

Before he had even finished his sentence he vomited, splattering the floor in front of Professor Umbridge’s desk. Students in the front row shrieked and jumped back.

“We’d better get him to the Hospital Wing!” said George, jumping to his feet and grabbing both his and Fred’s bags.

Lee jumped up as well just as Fred vomited again, and the three of them quickly exited the room. Holding her nose, Professor Umbridge vanished the vomit and dismissed the class, muttering something about wanting a cup of tea.

“Ms. Black!” she called, stopping Ursula in her tracks.

“Yes, Professor?” said Ursula, stepping back into the classroom.

“Would you please come to my office after dinner?” said Professor Umbridge.

“Of course,” said Ursula. She nodded and left the room. Fred, George, and Lee were standing at the end of the hallway, being applauded by their classmates.

“Five sickles for a box!” said George, holding out boxes marked  _ Skiving Snackboxes _ . George was beside him, brandishing something called  _ Extendable Ears _ .

“Two sickles for a pair!” said Fred. Ursula grinned. Their business was clearly thriving already.

Ursula was so angry at Professor Umbridge for dishonoring Cedric by ignoring the circumstances of his desk that she stewed silently all through her free period after lunch, making her Potions essay sound slightly threatening. She and Rue were even shorter than usual with one another during double Care of Magical Creatures, and Ursula was in a bad mood when she arrived at Quidditch practice before dinner.

“I hate her,” she grunted, pulling on her gloves.

“Umbridge?” guessed Cassius. “Because I hate her too.”

“Who else?” said Ursula. “It wouldn’t be so hard to act like I like her if she wasn’t so awful.”

“Why are you playing nice with her?” said Adrian, as he finished polishing his broom.

“She’s obviously here so the Ministry can expand their power over Hogwarts,” said Ursula. “If I’m nice to her, it’ll be far easier to discover what changes she intends to make and to be on the right side when they come.”

“Blackmail just runs in your blood,” said Cassius sweetly. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“No one said anything about blackmail,” she said. “And should anyone choose to get their revenge on Professor Umbridge, that is not the direction to go.”

“You won’t get the Weasleys in trouble for pranking Umbridge, you mean,” said Adrian.

“If they happen to be in a position where she could potentially accuse them of doing something and I happen to be there, I may or may not assist them if I think Professor Umbridge deserves it —” said Ursula innocently.

“Which you most certainly do,” cut in Cassius, amused.

“— and I may or may not have already covered for them when they put dungbombs in her office after lunch,” finished Ursula. “You saw what she was like in class today. She deserved it.”

“Or maybe,” said Cassius, sharing a look with Adrian, “you’re helping them get away with it because you have a crush on one of them.”

“No way,” said Adrian, looking quickly between Cassius and Ursula. “Is that true?”

“That’s not the reason,” said Ursula.

“Ha! But you didn’t deny it!” hooted Cassius. Ursula blushed. “I knew it!”

“No, I don’t deny it,” said Ursula defiantly.

“Really?” said Adrian, lowering his voice so the rest of the team in the changing room wouldn’t hear. “A  _ Weasley _ ? Which one?”

“Fred,” said Ursula, avoiding eye contact with either of them. She felt very bold, admitting her feelings out loud. “It’s time we play, is it not?”

She got up, taking her broomstick with her, and leaving Adrian gaping after her.

“Did you know about this?” he said to Cassius, who grinned. “She can’t like a  _ Weasley _ . What will her family say?”

“She won’t tell them,” said Cassius, shrugging. “Besides, who knows if anything will come of it. Although,” he said, standing and picking up his broom, “I’d be delighted if something did.”

~~~

“Shall we do Snape’s stuff first?” said Ron, dipping his quill into his ink. The Gryffindor fifth years, upset after their class with Professor Umbridge, had claimed seats in the Gryffindor common room and were making a dent in the increased pile of homework they had been assigned to begin their OWL year with. “ _ ‘The properties… of moonstone… and its uses… in potion-making…’ _ ” he muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. “There.” He underlined the title, then looked up expectantly at Hermione. “So what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?”

But Hermione was not listening; she was squinting over into the far corner of the room, where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the center of a knot of innocent-looking first years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.

“No, I’m sorry, they’ve gone too far,” she said, standing up and looking positively furious. “Come on, Ron.”

“I — what?” said Ron, plainly playing for time. “No — come on, Hermione — we can’t tell them off for giving out sweets…”

“You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougat or — or Puking Pastilles or —”

“Fainting Fancies?” Harry suggested quietly.

One by one, as though hit over the heads with invisible mallets, the first years were slumping unconscious in their seats; some slid right onto the floor, others merely hung over the arms of their chairs, their tongues lolling out. Most of the people watching were laughing; Hermione, however, squared her shoulders and marched directly over to where Fred and George now stood with clipboards, closely observing the unconscious first years. Ron rose halfway out of his chair, hovered uncertainly for a moment or two, then muttered to Harry, “She’s got it under control,” before sinking as low in his chair as his lanky frame permitted.

“That’s enough!” Hermione said forcefully to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said George, nodding, “this dosage looks strong enough, doesn’t it?” “I told you this morning, you can’t test your rubbish on students!”

“We’re paying them!” said Fred indignantly.

“I don’t care, it could be dangerous!”

“Rubbish,” said Fred.

“Calm down, Hermione, they’re fine!” said Lee reassuringly as he walked from first year to first year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.

“Yeah, look, they’re coming round now,” said George.

A few of the first years were indeed stirring. Several looked so shocked to find themselves lying on the floor, or dangling off their chairs, that Harry was sure Fred and George had not warned them what the sweets were going to do.

“Feel all right?” said George kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet.

“I — I think so,” she said shakily.

“Excellent,” said Fred happily, but the next second Hermione had snatched both his clipboard and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands.

“It is NOT excellent!”

“’Course it is, they’re alive, aren’t they?” said Fred angrily.

“You can’t do this, what if you made one of them really ill?”

“We’re not going to make them ill, we’ve already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same —”

“If you don’t stop doing it, I’m going to —”

“Put us in detention?” said Fred in an I’d-like-to-see-you-try-it voice.

“Make us write lines?” said George, smirking.

Onlookers all over the room were laughing. Hermione drew herself up to her full height; her eyes were narrowed and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity.

“No,” she said, her voice quivering with anger, “but I will write to your mother.”

“You wouldn’t,” said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.

“Oh, yes, I would,” said Hermione grimly. “I can’t stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you’re not giving them to first years.”

Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione’s threat was way below the belt.

“Or,” said Hermione, mustering her strength to continue. “I’ll go to the Head Boy and Girl.”

“Black?” said Fred, recovering slightly. He and George exchanged looks. “She wouldn’t stop us.”

“Oh yes she would,” said Hermione.

“You’re bluffing, you won’t go to her,” said George with a snort.

“We’ll see about that,” said Hermione. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred’s clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms and stalked back to her chair by the fire.

Ron was now so low in his seat that his nose was roughly level with his knees.

“Thank you for your support, Ron,” Hermione said acidly.

“You handled it fine by yourself,” Ron mumbled.

“Will you really go to Black?” said Harry.

“Oh yes I will,” said Hermione.

“Do you think she’s trustworthy?” said Harry. “She is Malfoy’s cousin.”

“Yeah, aren’t her whole family Death Eaters?” said Ron.

“Lupin and Sirius seem to trust her,” said Hermione. “And that’s good enough for me. Death Eater or not, she’s still the Head Girl.”

~~~

After dinner, as requested, Ursula went to Professor Umbridge’s office. She knocked on the door and waited for Professor Umbridge to say, “Enter,” in her high pitched voice.

Ursula had seen this office under four of its previous occupants. She recalled Lockhart’s portraits (of himself), Lupin’s Grindylow tank, and Moody’s — or, she supposed, Crouch’s — Dark Detectors. Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.

Across the small room sat Harry Potter, sitting in a straight-backed chair in a table decorated with lace, doing lines with a black quill that Ursula instantly recognized. She did, after all, have a level of familiarity with dark objects more advanced than that of her classmates.

Ursula had no time to think on why or how Professor Umbridge had a Black Quill to use on students, as it was most certainly illegal, because Professor Umbridge, seating behind her desk, beckoned to her.

“Hello Ms. Black,” she said. At the sound of Ursula’s name Harry whipped around momentarily to stare at her, before looking back down at the parchment in front of him. “Please, sit.”

“Hello Professor,” said Ursula, as warmly as she could muster. “What was it you wanted to speak with me about?”

“As you are the Head Girl, I hope to employ your services to help raise standards at this school,” said Professor Umbridge. Though her voice was sickeningly sweet, it did sound sincere. “There are areas of education and conduct where I find some students and staff… lacking.”

“How can I help?” said Ursula.

“For now, there is little I need you to do other than emphasize the importance of school rules to the prefects, so that they may enforce said rules more… stringently,” said Professor Umbridge.

“Are there any rules in particular you would like to be more enforced?” said Ursula, her voice not wavering even the slightest bit. She could tell by the look on Professor Umbridge’s face that this was exactly what she had hoped Ursula would ask.

“Well, since you bring it up, I have observed a number of students not wearing the uniform correctly,” said Professor Umbridge. “There is also an intolerable level of magic in the corridors.”

“I will hold a meeting tomorrow to inform the prefects,” said Ursula.

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. She lowered her voice and tilted her head towards Ursula, glancing pointedly at Harry’s back. The scratch of Harry’s quill slowed as she spoke. “Changes are coming to Hogwarts, Ms. Black, and the Ministry would prefer student support.”

“I understand,” said Ursula, in the same tone of voice. Taking that as her dismissal she stood, nodded to Profess Umbridge, and said, “I’ll see you in class on Friday, Professor.”

Ursula left Professor Umbridge’s office, her new discoveries swirling around her head. She returned to the Slytherin common room, and only when she was bent over her Herbology homework did she confide to the others what she had learned.

“She’s using Black Quills on students who’ve earned detention,” said Ursula quietly. Cassius nearly upended his inkpot.

“She’s  _ what _ ?” he hissed. “That’s illegal.”

“Strangely enough, I don’t think she cares,” said Ursula. “I’m sure she would get away with it under the current Ministry.”

“What’s a Black Quill?” said Lilian.

“It’s a quill that uses blood instead of ink,” explained Ursula. “As you write, the quill draws blood from your hand and etches the words onto the back of your hand.”

Lilian looked horrified.

“That’s demented,” she whispered.

“Yes, it is, so y’all had better stay out of trouble,” said Ursula. “The reason she asked me to meet with her is because she wants the school rules to be better enforced. I imagine she’s planning some way to implement new rules of her own. The way she phrased her request also makes me wonder if she wants me to pass on information to her that I find out from other students.”

“You mean spy on your classmates?” said Cassius.

“Perhaps,” said Ursula grimly. “But if it comes to that, I have no trouble lying.”

“When she says she would ‘prefer student support’ for Ministry implemented changes, what does that mean?” asked Lilian.

“I have a feeling she wants more authority than she has,” said Ursula. “If her new rules were more accepted, or at least enforced, it would make that transition to whatever she has planned easier. The problem is, no one will obey her rules.”

“What  _ does _ she have planned?” said Cassius. Ursula shrugged.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” she said.

~~~

Harry left Professor Umbridge’s office without a word, his hand smarting after his detention. Aside from pain and anger, questions were running through his mind about what Umbridge meant when she talked about changes and whose side Ursula Black was on.

“She’s probably going along with Umbridge to keep out of trouble,” said Hermione dismissively, when Harry told her and Ron all about the conversation he had overheard.

“It sounded like she was okay with Umbridge, though,” said Harry.

“Harry’s right,” said Ron. “Her boyfriend, Rowle or whatever, also comes from a big Death Eater family.” They both looked at him. “What? Fred and George mentioned him over the summer.”

“Rowle was one of the Death Eaters in the graveyard. That must be his father,” said Harry slowly. “It all fits! Malfoy’s dad is Black’s uncle, and her boyfriend’s dad is a Death Eater, meaning he probably is too, so it makes sense that she’d align with Umbridge!”

“You’re forgetting something,” said Hermione, frowning. “First, the Ministry doesn’t believe You-Know-Who is back, so why would she want to help Umbridge? Second, Sirius and Lupin both like her. I’ve heard them mention her before. Plus, she’s friends with Fred and George. That doesn’t sound like something someone in league with the Death Eaters would do. Third, Harry, you’re forgetting that she saved you from Crouch.”

Harry clenched his jaw.

“Maybe she didn’t know it was Voldemort’s doing then,” he said. “But why else would she meet with Umbridge? That’s suspicious.”

“She’s Head Girl and Umbridge is a professor. What more reason does she need?” cried Hermione. “Unless you have any  _ actual  _ evidence, I’m still going to trust her. I’ll talk to her tomorrow about stopping Fred and George.”

~~~

On Thursday, Ursula told the prefects that she was holding a brief meeting before lunch in one of the empty classrooms on the first floor. She told Lewis, the Head Boy, that Professor Umbridge wanted the school rules more stringently enforced.

“Did she say anything else?” said Lewis with a slight frown.

“No, but I have to imagine that the Ministry will only get more involved, although I can’t say that I support that,” said Ursula.

“Me neither, to be honest,” said Lewis, crossing his arms. “But I suppose you and I have to at least act like we do, right?”

“Exactly,” said Ursula. Just then, the first group of prefects entered and they fell silent. Once everyone was there, she spoke. “Professor Umbridge has asked that the Hogwarts school rules, specifically in reference to the school uniform and no magic being permitted in the hallways, be more enforced by the prefects.”

“So, are we supposed to take away more points?” said fifth year Anthony Goldstein.

“Not necessarily,” answered Lewis for Ursula. “Start with warnings for uniform violations like you would anything else — we’ve never really enforced that rule before. Magic in the hallways, however, does carry a point penalty or even a detention, like it always has.”

“You are all doing a good job enforcing school rules already,” said Ursula. “The bottom line is to just be extra careful and look out for your classmates. I shall remind you all that this is not an excuse to abuse your powers but simply a reminder that these are the rules our newest professor believes are most commonly flouted.”

“If you are patrolling tonight, please take note that the sixth floor is flooded on the left side. That is all,” said Lewis.

As the prefects filed out, Hermione approached Ursula.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Ursula. She shut the door behind the last of the prefects and Lewis. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Fred and George have been testing their products out on first years,” said Hermione. “They’re paying them, but it’s still dangerous. What they’re doing has to be against school rules.”

She held out a large sign that said:

**GALLONS OF GALLEONS!**

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room,

for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs

_ (WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT’S OWN RISK) _

Ursula took the sign, feeling both exasperated and oddly proud.

“I’ll sort it out,” promised Ursula. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled and left. Ursula sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. She already felt drained, and the first week back hadn’t even finished. She had to be careful of the lies she told about Hadrian and keep track of what she said to Professor Umbridge or else she would get herself and a lot of other people hopelessly tangled up in trouble. All of that was without considering the growing concern that was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return, nevermind the mountain of schoolwork she had to get through, her responsibilities as Head Girl, or her role on the Quidditch team.

“Right, Quidditch practice,” said Ursula to herself, reminded that Adrian wanted to get a few hours in after dinner.

She entered the Great Hall for lunch, taking her usual seat and said, “I’m starting to regret taking ten NEWTs.”

“As we knew you would,” said Cassius, passing her a bread roll. “Don’t get discouraged; if anyone can do it, it’s you. Have you talked to loverboy recently?”

“No, Hadrian hasn’t written for a couple of days,” said Ursula.

“That wasn’t who I meant and you know it,” replied Cassius.

~~~

Just as she said she would, Ursula dealt with Fred and George. After double Potions followed by History of Magic, and staring down a list of homework as long as her arm (including several essays that had to  _ be  _ as long as her arm), she cornered Fred and George.

“Come with me,” she said, leading them into a side corridor off the hall.

“If this is about paying first years —” began George.

“Yes, but also Professor Umbridge is about to walk past and she’s looking for any excuse to put you both in detention,” said Ursula. “Which reminds me, she’ll be out of her office for at least the next twenty minutes dealing with a flood on the sixth floor.”

“Good to know,” said Fred, with his signature mischievous grin.

“Now, Hermione tells me you have been testing out your new products on first years,” said Ursula sternly.

“We’ve tested everything out on ourselves first,” said Fred.

“Yeah, and we’re paying them,” repeated George.

“Even still, it could be dangerous,” said Ursula. “All I ask is that you stop using first years. Find some fourth years who are willing to do it. In addition, don’t do your tests in the common room if you can avoid it.”

“That’s it?” said Fred. “You aren’t going to confiscate our stuff or give us detention?”

“Since I sold you the building, I can hardly stop you making the products,” said Ursula. “Just change the way you test them out so that you’re not breaking any rules, and try and be a little more discreet, alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” said George. “Thanks Black.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Fred, smiling at her.

“Be good!” called Ursula after them as they headed down the corridor.

“You know we won’t!” they chorused in reply. Ursula grinned.

~~~

The tumultuous start to Ursula’s seventh year was punctuated that weekend by several things. First, on Saturday, Adrian’s rant about new strategies for their practice later that morning was interrupted by the arrival of the post.

“Anything interesting?” said Lilian, yawning, as Ursula unfurled her  _ Daily Prophet _ .

“The bass player from the Weird Sisters got married,” said Ursula. She opened the paper. “Oh, and Sirius Black may have been sighted in London.”

“What?” said Vanessa from across the table.

“ _ ‘The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer, et cetera, is currently hiding in London,’ _ ” read Ursula. Cassius scoffed.

“Every other week someone claims to have seen him just to stir up interest,” he said. “If they haven’t caught him by now, I doubt they ever will.”

“My mum says Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Aurors, has evidence that he’s hiding in Tibet,” said Lilian.

“Does it say who saw him?” said Adrian.

“No,” said Ursula, although she would bet money that it was Lucius. It had been very foolish of Sirius to come to the platform, even in Animagus form. Her attention was caught by a little piece, barely inch long and placed right at the bottom of a column. It was headlined:

**TRESPASS AT MINISTRY**

_ Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum _

_ Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the _

_ Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery _

_ at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. _

_ Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watch- _

_ wizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to _

_ force his way through a top-security door at one _

_ o’clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to _

_ speak in his own defense, was convicted on both _

_ charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban. _

It would have been entirely unremarkable except normal people didn’t break into the Ministry, especially not at night. Ursula, suspicious, made a mental note to inquire about it later; she was distracted by the arrival of Hadrian’s owl, bearing a large package that thumped on the table when the owl landed.

“What’s that?” asked Lilian, as Ursula fed the owl a piece of bacon.

“A book I wanted from Corvus Manor,” said Ursula. “Usually I would have my house elves send it to me, but this one is enchanted.”

“Cursed, you mean,” muttered Adrian.

“It’s written in runes so I haven’t had a chance to figure out how to undo the jinx yet,” explained Ursula. “It can only be opened by a witch or wizard, and I didn’t want Dimsey or Helgie to open it by accident. I’m not sure what would happen, but I don’t want to find out.”

“More importantly, why did you have Hadrian send it to you?” said Cassius.

“It’s something for the League of Laurels,” said Ursula, lowering her voice. “I’ll explain later.”

“Is there a meeting tonight, then?” said Cassius excitedly.

“Tomorrow,” said Ursula. “I have some new rules I want to go over.”

Indeed, Ursula had spent a great deal of time over the summer deciding what to do with the League of Laurels. Up until now, the group had basically been a larger version of a study group. They occasionally learned new things as a group, but most of the time they practiced whatever they needed to in small groups.

Now, however, Ursula decided to make some changes. The first part of the changes was because of Cedric. Ursula, having weighed the consequences, decided it was time some of her fellow Slytherins learned how to properly defend themselves against dark curses and even how to cast them themselves. She knew some of the kids were children of Death Eaters. She knew what would happen if one of them abused the spells she taught them. But she also knew that it was far better to be prepared, and there was no way they could defend themselves without knowing what kind of beast they were up against. Since they weren’t learning any actual magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was vital that they learn some practical knowledge.

That’s where the book Hadrian had mailed Ursula came in.

Like many of the predominantly dark objects she owned, it was written entirely in runes, which made her forthcoming NEWT in Ancient Runes extremely helpful. Also like many of the other books in the library at Corvus Manor, it was heavily focused on dark curses. If Ursula’s plan to change the League of Laurels worked, she would get more books from home.

The second part of the changes she was making, some of which were still to be decided based on Professor Umbridge’s next move, was to make the League of Laurels more secretive than it already was. She did this in a number of ways.

The first was that no student in first or second year could enter. Ursula would’ve expelled Miles Fenharrow, Lucinda Warrington, Henry Shafiq, and Viola Rowle (the four third years who attended meetings) but figured that since they were already there they might as well stay. The next piece of her plan was that no new students could join without Ursula’s approval. This had been part of the league’s rules all along, but she hadn’t done much enforcing until now.

In order to keep the League of Laurels secret even from other Slytherins as well as the rest of the school, Ursula needed a better way to communicate when and in which dungeon they would be meeting. Before it had been by word of mouth, but that felt too risky now. Therefore, as Ursula told a silent audience at the League of Laurels meeting the following night, she would be communicating the date, time, and place of each meeting through a vase of flowers in the Slytherin common room.

“For those of you who are not familiar with the language of the flowers,” she said, passing around a stack of parchment, “here is a simplified guide to help. Based on the type of flower and the number and arrangement in each vase, you should be able to decipher when and where to meet. I suggest you do not lose these charts. Any questions?”

No one spoke. They were stunned, awed, and more than a little intimidated by what she proposed to do. But not one person looked afraid, and a number of resolute faces stared back at her.

“Alright,” said Ursula. “The last piece of information I have to tell you is a warning, that the use of  _ any  _ of the spells we will be practicing in the following weeks on a fellow student or someone’s pet will earn a year’s worth of detention from me,  _ at minimum _ . Is this understood?”

“Why — Why are you teaching us these spells?” squeaked fourth year Hestia Carrow.

“Good question. I will answer it in two parts,” said Ursula. “The first, and I should have said this earlier, is that no student who feels uncomfortable learning these spells will be required to. This entire club is optional. In addition, none of the third or fourth years will be taught the spells themselves because they are simply too difficult to cast. You will, however, be taught how to defend yourselves against them,” she said, anticipating Flora Carrow’s question.

“The second reason I think it is important for all of you to be aware of these spells is that we are living in uncertain times,” said Ursula. “I needn’t pretend that many of you here come from families who once supported or still do support He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Regardless of whether you believe he has returned or not, the fact remains that his followers have grown more and more active over the last year, and will likely continue to do so. They will use spells such as these at will. I believe it is necessary to know what you’re up against and under what circumstances using such spells are justified, and it is for those reasons that I wish to teach them. If you do not wish to learn how to defend yourself against such foes you may leave or simply say so.”

No one spoke. The whole dungeon was silent and still, and Ursula felt like she was in command.

“Very well,” she said. “Let us begin.”


	75. Nightmares

It was well past midnight in the Gryffindor common room, as Hermione helped Harry and Ron rewrite their Astronomy essays, when Harry saw something in the fire that could not have been there. It had flashed into sight and vanished immediately. No… it could not have been… He had imagined it because he had been thinking about Sirius…

“Okay, write that down,” Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, “and then copy out this conclusion that I’ve written for you.”

“Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I’ve ever met,” said Ron weakly, “and if I’m ever rude to you again —”

“— I’ll know you’re back to normal,” said Hermione. “Harry, yours is okay except for this bit at the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa’s covered in ice, not mice — Harry?”

Harry had slid off his chair onto his knees and was now crouching on the singed and threadbare hearthrug, gazing into the flames.

“Er — Harry?” said Ron uncertainly. “Why are you down there?”

“Because I’ve just seen Sirius’s head in the fire,” said Harry.

He spoke quite calmly; after all, he had seen Sirius’s head in this very fire the previous year and talked to it too. Nevertheless, he could not be sure that he had really seen it this time… It had vanished so quickly…

“Sirius’s head?” Hermione repeated. “You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn’t do that now, it would be too — Sirius!”

She gasped, gazing at the fire; Ron dropped his quill. There in the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius’s head, long dark hair falling around his grinning face.

“I was starting to think you’d go to bed before everyone else had disappeared,” he said. “I’ve been checking every hour.”

“You’ve been popping into the fire every hour?” Harry said, half laughing.

“Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet.”

“But what if you’d been seen?” said Hermione anxiously.

“Well, I think a girl — first year by the look of her — might’ve got a glimpse of me earlier, but don’t worry,” Sirius said hastily, as Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. “I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I’ll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something.”

“But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk —” Hermione began.

“You sound like Molly,” said Sirius. “This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry’s letter without resorting to a code — and codes are breakable.”

At the mention of Harry’s letter, Hermione and Ron had both turned to stare at him.

“You didn’t say you’d written to Sirius!” said Hermione accusingly.

“I forgot,” said Harry, which was perfectly true; his meeting with Cho in the Owlery had driven everything before it out of his mind. “Don’t look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?”

“No, it was very good,” said Sirius, smiling. “Anyway, we’d better be quick, just in case we’re disturbed — your scar.”

“What about — ?” Ron began, but Hermione said quickly, “We’ll tell you afterward, go on, Sirius.”

“Well, I know it can’t be fun when it hurts, but we don’t think it’s anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion,” said Harry, ignoring, as usual, Ron and Hermione’s winces. “So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention.”

“Well, now he’s back, it’s bound to hurt more often,” said Sirius.

“So you don’t think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?” Harry asked.

“I doubt it,” said Sirius. “I know her by reputation and I’m sure she’s no Death Eater —”

“She’s foul enough to be one,” said Harry darkly and Ron and Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Yes, but the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters,” said Sirius with a wry smile. “I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her.”

“Does Lupin know her?” asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson.

“No,” said Sirius, “but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.”

Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened even further.

“What’s she got against werewolves?” said Hermione angrily.

“Scared of them, I expect,” said Sirius, smiling at her indignation. “Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose —”

Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.

“Sirius!” she said reproachfully. “Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher I’m sure he’d respond, after all, you are the only member of his family he’s got left, and Professor Dumbledore said —”

“So what are Umbridge’s lessons like?” Sirius interrupted. “Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?”

“No,” said Harry, ignoring Hermione’s affronted look at being cut off in her defense of Kreacher. “She’s not letting us use magic at all!”

“All we do is read the stupid textbook,” said Ron.

“Ah, well, that figures,” said Sirius. “Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn’t want you trained in combat.”

“Trained in combat?” repeated Harry incredulously. “What does he think we’re doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?”

“That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing,” said Sirius, “or rather, that’s exactly what he’s afraid Dumbledore’s doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic.”

There was a pause at this, then Ron said, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with.”

“So we’re being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we’ll use spells against the Ministry?” said Hermione, looking furious.

“Yep,” said Sirius. “Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He’s getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It’s a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge.”

This reminded Harry of Percy’s letter.

“D’you know if there’s going to be anything about Dumbledore in the  _ Daily Prophet _ tomorrow? Only Ron’s brother Percy reckons there will be —”

“I don’t know,” said Sirius, “I haven’t seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they’re all busy. It’s just been me, Remus, and Kreacher here…”

There was a definite note of bitterness in Sirius’s voice. Thinking of Sirius stuck in Grimmauld Place reminded Harry of something he wanted to ask.

“I think Ursula Black is involved with Voldemort,” said Harry. “I think she’s helping the Death Eaters.”

“What makes you think that?” said Sirius, sounding faintly amused.

“She met with Umbridge while I was in detention the other day — and she lives with the Malfoys,” said Harry. “Plus Lucius Malfoy and her boyfriend’s dad were at the graveyard, so it makes sense that she would help them. I think she’s up to something.”

“That would make sense,” said Sirius slowly, concealing something like a laugh with a slight cough, “but, er, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, so keep it to yourselves — she’s a spy for the Order.”

“She’s  _ what _ ?” said Ron and Hermione together.

“As you said, Harry, she’s incredibly well connected,” said Sirius. “She knows practically every person who was a Death Eater in the first war, and she knows their families. She knows more about who’s involved with You-Know-Who than we do.”

“How’d she come to be a spy?” said Ron.

“Dumbledore recruited her himself,” said Sirius. “She came to visit me over the summer to confirm it. You won’t see her at any Order meetings, though. In fact,” his voice took on a more serious note, “you can’t mention this to  _ anyone _ . Her role must be a  _ complete _ secret.”

“What about Rowle?” said Harry, still not convinced.

“I have no idea if he’s trustworthy or not, but he also doesn’t know she’s spying for us,” said Sirius. “Let Ursula deal with him. You can trust her, Harry.”

Changing the topic, Harry said, “So you haven’t had any news about Hagrid, either?”

“Ah…” said Sirius, “well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one’s sure what’s happened to him.” Then, seeing their stricken faces, he added quickly, “But Dumbledore’s not worried, so don’t you three get yourselves in a state; I’m sure Hagrid’s fine.”

“But if he was supposed to be back by now…” said Hermione in a small, worried voice.

“Madame Maxime was with him, we’ve been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home — but there’s nothing to suggest he’s hurt or — well, nothing to suggest he’s not perfectly okay.”

Unconvinced, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried looks.

“Listen, don’t go asking too many questions about Hagrid,” said Sirius hastily, “it’ll just draw even more attention to the fact that he’s not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn’t want that. Hagrid’s tough, he’ll be okay.” And when they did not appear cheered by this, Sirius added, “When’s your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn’t we? I thought I could —”

“NO!” said Harry and Hermione together, very loudly.

“Sirius, didn’t you see the Daily Prophet?” said Hermione anxiously.

“Oh that,” said Sirius, grinning, “they’re always guessing where I am, they haven’t really got a clue —”

“Yeah, but we think this time they have,” said Harry. “Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius — you know, Lucius Malfoy — so don’t come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again —”

“All right, all right, I’ve got the point,” said Sirius. He looked most displeased. “Just an idea, thought you might like to get together —”

“I would, I just don’t want you chucked back in Azkaban!” said Harry.

There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire at Harry, a crease between his sunken eyes.

“You’re less like your father than I thought,” he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. “The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.”

“Look —”

“Well, I’d better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,” said Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. “I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?”

There was a tiny  _ pop _ , and the place where Sirius’s head had been was flickering flame once more.

~~~

The second week of school packed just as much of a punch as the first, with the arrival of the  _ Daily Prophet _ on Monday morning.

“Bloody hell,” said Lilian, peering over Ursula’s shoulder at the paper, which Ursula had laid flat to reveal a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge, smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline:

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”**

“What the fuck is a High Inquisitor?” said Cassius.

“ _ In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _ ,” read Ursula. “‘ _ The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. ‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’ This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 12th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person _ .”

“So that explains it,” said Adrian.

“ _ ‘That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success —’ _ ”

“Like hell she has,” said Lilian with a snort.

“There’s more,” said Ursula grimly. “ _ ‘— an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts.’ “It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’ _ ”

“So she’ll be even more unbearable,” said Vanessa glumly.

“ _ ‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the “falling standards” at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. ‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.’ “The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts. _ ”

“Take a guess as to whose parents,” said Cassius.

“Then you’ve guessed correctly,” said Ursula. “ _ ‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.’ Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody. _ ”

“Hey, Lupin was the best,” protested Adrian. “And just because Hagrid’s half giant that doesn’t make him a bad person.”

“Moody  _ was  _ a Death Eater, but at least he could teach,” said Gemma.

“ _ Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts _ ,” continued Ursula. “ _ ‘I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,’ said a Ministry insider last night. “Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts _ .”

“Good for them,” said Lilian.

“ _ ‘Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge’s office,’ said Madam Marchbanks. ‘This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.’ (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks’ alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17) _ .”

Ursula finished reading and folded the newspaper in half.

“That must be the change she was referring to,” she said. After a moment of consideration she laughed, and the others looked at her like she was mad. “I’d love to see her inspect Professor McGonagall.”

“Mmhm, I can picture it,” said Cassius, cheering up. “Umbridge won’t know what’s hit her.”

“Well, if she’s inspecting Arithmancy, I don’t want to be late,” said Vanessa, jumping up. Gemma followed her.

Professor Umbridge was not inspecting Arithmancy, as Gemma told Ursula when she arrived at History of Magic an hour later. Nor did Professor Umbridge inspect History of Magic or Care of Magical Creatures, though Ursula suspected she was waiting to see if Hagrid would return first.

She was, however, waiting when they arrived in Charms. Professor Flitwick, courteous as ever, treated her like a guest, and for the most part Professor Umbridge just lurked in the corner taking notes on her clipboard. She asked Alicia Spinnet what classes were normally like, and Alicia told the truth — Charms was excellent and everyone like Professor Flitwick — and that was that.

“I can’t see Professor Flitwick getting marked down,” said Ursula, as they headed downstairs to Potions. “He’s a good teacher, and almost everyone gets through their Charms exams.”

“Nah, she’s only going to mark down people she really doesn’t like,” said Cassius. “Like, I could see her hating Trelawney or Hagrid, but not Flitwick. Besides, she’d need a good reason.”

Their Potions class was Umbridge-free, so they only had to deal with Professor Snape’s usual antics. He breathed down their necks as they brewed a complicated potion, then handed back their essays, marked with the grade like the one they would receive on their NEWTs. Once classes were over, the Slytherins returned to their common room before dinner, where most of them made use of the time to do homework.

“Have you heard who Gryffindor’s new keeper is now that Wood’s gone?” said Adrian, sitting down across from Ursula.

“No, who?” said Ursula, checking a rune in her book then making a correction.

“The youngest Weasley boy — Ron,” said Adrian. “A bunch of us are going to go watch the Gryffindor practice.”

“Try to keep the jeering to a minimum,” said Ursula. “Ask Cassius to keep Draco from heckling them.”

“You won’t come?” said Adrian.

“With the amount of homework I have to do? Not a chance,” said Ursula. “Besides, there’s no point. I doubt you’ll see how well Ron can fly if too many Slytherins are there booing him.”

“Ursula’s too dignified to boo someone during practice,” added Cassius from across the common room. “Plus it’s not Head Girl behavior.”

“It’s not prefect behavior either,” Ursula called back. “So mind what you do.”

Adrian, Cassius, and the others were gone for less than an hour when they returned. Ursula tuned out Draco’s gloating remarks as he and his friends lounged by the fire.

“How was it?” said Ursula, noticing that both Adrian and Cassius were grinning.

“He was rubbish,” said Adrian.

“It didn’t help that your cousin led a couple cheers,” said Cassius nonchalantly.

“I though you were supposed to rein him in,” said Ursula dryly.

“My failure won’t stop you from correcting my Transfiguration essay, will it?” said Cassius.

“I’ll read over it to check your grammar, but that’s all,” said Ursula, taking the essay from him and marking it with her quill.

In Alchemy, they were finally ready to attempt nonverbal magic. It was supremely difficult, trying to use the properties of elements to achieve results, and even more so when they couldn’t say the incantations aloud. But Professor Tilcott bounced from student to student, offering encouragement and advice, and despite the difficult work every single student left his room smiling.

Vanessa, as it happened, was something of a natural at Alchemy, and was positively beaming after the compliments she had received for her work. Her grin did not fade when they arrived in Transfiguration, even after Professor McGonagall assigned them the difficult task of conjuring a ferret.

In sixth year, they had set about conjuring birds, and Ursula had left the class that day with a mini flock of crows. She had since advanced all the way to a whole peacock, and in no time at all had a whole business of ferrets.

“Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, beckoning her up to her desk while the other students were still stuck trying to complete the task. Ursula had no doubt Cedric would’ve achieved it just as fast as she.

“Yes, Professor?” said Ursula.

Professor McGonagall handed Ursula a worn out journal of sorts that, when she opened it, she saw was only half filled.

“I would like you to complete a task that my Transfiguration professor set me in my seventh year,” she said. Ursula knew she had been taught by Professor Dumbledore himself. “If you can, I ask that you complete the instructions and the spells in this book and fill in the missing parts. It will be very difficult and likely frustrating, as this is more complex than anything you have ever tried or indeed what I will teach, even for the remainder of this year. In my thirty-nine years of teaching, I have only ever set this task to three other students. Can you handle it?”

“I can,” said Ursula. Her heart was beating fast and she was thrilled at the prospect of trying.

“I thought so,” said Professor McGonagall proudly, surveying her over her square spectacles as she handed Ursula the journal. “You are free to use class time to work, and should you need to enter the Restricted Section to do research, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula, clasping the journal tightly.

“I know you are planning to seek a career in dragonology,” said Professor McGonagall, “and I encourage you to do so, but I hope you will not stop studying Transfiguration.”

“I won’t, Professor, I promise,” said Ursula.

Ursula returned to her seat, vanishing her tittering group of ferrets, and flipped open the journal. On the inside cover was a list of all the students who had completed it. The book had been written by Professor Dumbledore, who had assigned it to two students, one of whom was Professor McGonagall. She in turn had assigned it to Magdalena Maltby, who had gone on to pioneer a branch of Switching Spells, James Potter, and Basil Shacklebolt.

Ursula wanted to add her name to that list. One look at the first page told her it would not be easy, and on top of all the other work she was doing she wasn’t sure it was possible. But she was determined to try.

~~~

Ursula began work on the journal that very night, once she’d done as much homework as she could. She curled up in bed with Betelgeuse purring, tucked into her side, the tip of her quill tickling her nose. It was well past midnight when she finally turned off the lantern above her bed and went to sleep. She hadn’t made any progress, but had scribbled a long list of possibilities onto a piece of parchment.

Her mind was still whirling the next morning, and she had to remind herself that it would take weeks if not months to fully complete the journal to keep herself from getting too impatient.

She had to focus in Ancient Runes, because their translations now had practical applications, such as complex spells used to guard objects or houses, something Ursula was very familiar with. She had been making steady progress in her book of dark curses, but some of the runes were rare and therefore unfamiliar, and she didn’t want to ask Professor Babbling about them.

“Historically, runes have been used to guard places of great importance, either symbolically or in the present,” said Professor Babbling. “You will find them on many graves and even on some dwellings. This is why the Curse-Breakers for Gringotts must have a robust knowledge of runes. Mr. Carter, I know you have some interest in pursuing this path, so can you tell us why runes are so important around graves?”

“Runes are used to protect the souls of the dead from anyone who might disturb them,” said Lewis, puffing out his chest. “In addition, many believed that the runes could guide the wizard’s soul to the afterlife, so to speak.”

“Very good,” said Professor Babbling. “And around houses?”

“People wish to protect their families but also bring good fortune,” said Lewis.

“Out of interest, does anyone here have runes in or around their home?” said Professor Babbling. “Not that I would expect you to, but every year someone — Ms. Black?”

“There are runes inscribed on the doors to my house and on the gates,” said Ursula awkwardly. She and Gemma had both put their hands up. The use of runes was another trait of purebloods, but not every house had them, such as Adrian’s. It was something only done in very old houses. “There are also runes in some of the rooms.”

“Interesting,” said Professor Babbling. “What sort of runes, Ms. Black?”

“ _ Ansuz _ is above the doorway, for knowledge,  _ fehu _ , for wealth,  _ gebō _ , for gift,  _ algiz _ , for protection,  _ perþ _ , for secrets, and  _ ōpila _ , for heritage,” listed Ursula, neglecting to mention the rooms they were inscribed in. She knew her classmates didn’t have a library in their homes. “Er — that’s all I can remember.”

“Thank you for sharing, Ms. Black,” said Professor Babbling. “ _ Ansuz _ and  _ algiz  _ are among the most common inscriptions, as defense and the desire to learn often go hand in hand.  _ Perþ _ , however, is more unusual.”

Thankfully, she didn’t ask for further details. Ursula didn’t want to admit that the rune for secrets was written not just on books in her house, but on hidden doors, and most frighteningly of all on the door to the dungeon, which Ursula had still not opened.

After Ancient Runes, Ursula and the rest of the Slytherins had double Defense Against the Dark Arts. They were all bored of Professor Umbridge, and many outright angry at her. Fred, George, Lee, and Rue didn’t last more than ten minutes in her class before they demonstrated Fred and George’s Skiving Snackboxes and left with a fever, a nosebleed, an upset stomach, and a fainting spell.

Ursula opened her book to the assigned page and immediately zoned out, letting her mind wander to more impending issues and thinking about all the things she wanted to do with the League of Laurels. She also thought of Hadrian, and knew she needed to keep the pretense up a bit better. Perhaps he would come for a Hogsmeade visit.

As it was Wednesday, Ursula and Cassius were patrolling that night, along with fifth year Hufflepuffs Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. They sent the Hufflepuffs on their way and strolled comfortably along the dark corridors. As time wore on, very few students were out and about in the quiet, empty castle.

“Almost eleven,” said Cassius, checking his watch and yawning. “Damn, I have a Potions essay due tomorrow and Snape is  _ not _ lenient”

“Do some of it tonight and the rest during your free period,” said Ursula. “I have a History of Magic essay to write, and I want to get a head start on my Ancient Runes reading assignment.”

They were on their way down to the first floor when footsteps echoed through the darkness, coming up the stairs towards them.

“Who’s there?” said Ursula, her wand lighting up. The wood didn’t grow hot, so whoever it was wasn’t dangerous. The footsteps grew louder as they neared, and then a figure stepped out of the darkness. “Ah, Mr. Potter.”

~~~

It was nearly eleven when Harry left Professor Umbridge’s office, and he was headed up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, a scarf wrapped around his bleeding hand, not paying attention to where he was going, when a voice echoed out of the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

Harry stopped short in front of Ursula Black and a hulking Slytherin named Warrington, the former of whom had her wand out and lit up.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” said Ursula. “What are you doing out? It’s well past curfew.”

“I had detention,” said Harry stiffly. No matter what Sirius said, he still didn’t fully trust Ursula, and didn’t trust Warrington at all, plus he was angry and exhausted after his detention.

“We’ll have to escort you back to your common room, I’m afraid,” said Ursula, exchanging an exasperated look with Warrington. “Just to be sure you don’t run into the other prefects who are out.”

Harry nodded and Ursula set off at a swift pace, leaving him and Warrington to follow or be left behind.

“You should talk to Umbridge about shortening her detentions,” muttered Warrington to Ursula, just loud enough that Harry could hear. Harry had never actually heard Warrington speak, as he knew him by reputation alone.

“I can try, but I don’t see what good it’ll do,” replied Ursula softly. “But I’ll try to bring up the curfew or something when I have a chance.”

Neither of the seventh years spoke to Harry as they headed upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, until they stopped on the seventh floor in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“Here we are,” said Warrington unceremoniously, crossing his arms.

Harry awkwardly gave the password to a disgruntled Fat Lady and entered the common room, happy to see Ron and Hermione waiting for him and to leave the intimidating seventh years behind.

~~~

“Just our luck,” muttered Cassius as the portrait closed behind Harry. “We’re on our way down to the dungeons, and then we had to come all the way back up to the seventh floor.”

“We couldn’t let him just wander around in the dark,” said Ursula. “But still, it is annoying. Come on. Let’s get back to the dungeons before dawn.”

But even once they were down in the dungeons and Ursula had done as much homework as she could manage, she still didn’t get a good night’s sleep. It was nearly two in the morning when she awoke to someone pounding on the door to her dorm room.

“What in the bloody hell?” muttered Gemma sleepily. Ursula wrenched open the door to come face to face with Adrian.

“What is it?” she said, her tone making it clear that he better have a good reason for waking her up.

“Cassius is having a nightmare,” said Adrian, panting slightly. “Alexander can’t wake him, and —”

Ursula didn’t wait for him to finish before she snatched her silk dressing gown off of her desk chair and hurried down the corridor to the boys’ dorms. The door to his dorm was open and she could hear shouting.

“Cassius! Cassius!” said Ursula, running over to his bed. Cassius was muttering in his sleep, twisting and turning and occasionally screaming.

“I can’t wake him,” said Alexander, Cassius’s roommate, sourly. Ursula paid him no attention.

She ran a hand through Cassius’s hair, which was nearly plastered to his forehead with sweat, and bent close to whisper in his ear, “Cassius, wake up. I’m here, Cass, I’m here.”

Cassius woke with a start and bolted upright in bed, forcing Ursula to leap back to avoid a collision. He was gasping and grasping at his sheets, looking around wildly as if he didn’t remember where he was.

“I — I — I was —” he began, his frantic eyes finally settling on Ursula.

“It’s okay,” said Ursula. “I’m here.”

Now that his gasping breaths had ceased, Cassius’s eyes began to well with tears, and he gritted his teeth to avoid crying in front of Alexander. Though it shouldn’t have mattered, Cassius had a reputation for being tough.

“Come with me,” whispered Ursula, taking his hand. She pulled him to his feet, leading him down the hallway of dorms like a lost puppy. The common room was empty so she set him on a couch. “Wait here.”

Ursula went back into her dorm, Adrian following.

“Go to bed,” she said to him. “I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?” said Adrian. “I don’t know what to do, but I can stay for moral support.”

“Sit with him for a minute, and when I come back you can go to bed,” said Ursula. She grabbed a thick blanket and two bars of chocolate, then went next door and knocked on Lilian’s room.

“What’s going on?” said Lilian, opening the door immediately. “I heard shouting.”

“Cassius had a nightmare,” said Ursula. “Can I borrow some teacups? Oh, and chamomile tea, if you have any. It’s Cassius’s favorite.”

“Of course,” said Lilian. She disappeared into her dorm and returned a moment later with two mugs and accompanying teabags.

Ursula returned to the common room fully equipped and found Cassius sniffling, hands over his face and elbows propped up on his knees, with Adrian patting him on the back. Ursula wrapped the warm blanket around Cassius’s shoulders and set the first bar of chocolate in his hands.

“Alright buddy,” said Adrian. “Ursula’s going to talk to you now. Remember what I said, okay?”

Cassius nodded, his eyes bloodshot. Ursula conjured water into each of the cups and then heated the water until it was boiling, and the scent of chamomile tea filled the dark common room.

“Here,” she said, handing him the warm mug. “Drink this.”

“Ursula, I…”

“Shh,” said Ursula, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Drink.”

They sat there in silence, sipping tea as the fire crackled in the background. Only when Cassius’s cup of tea was empty and he had visibly relaxed did Ursula speak.

“How are you feeling?”

Cassius took a deep breath and sat up from where his head had been resting on her shoulder.

“Better,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” said Ursula. “It’s fine if you don’t.”

“No, no, I should tell you…” said Cassius. “I’ve been having nightmares all summer. I thought they’d go away, but…”

“Are they always like this?” said Ursula.

“Sometimes,” admitted Cassius. “I don’t… I don’t usually shout or anything though. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t be,” said Ursula. “Don’t be.”

“Just once over the summer, I woke up screaming, and my father,” Cassius gulped. “My father was, er, not happy.”

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Ursula. “Are you having nightmares about being a hit wizard?”

“Usually,” said Cassius. “They’re about curses in a dark room, or the room I’m in collapsing, or… well… I’ve also been having nightmares about Cedric.”

“You have?” said Ursula. “Oh, Cassius.”

“For a while they stopped,” said Cassius, with a gulp. “But then… we came back to school, and it seemed like everyone had just… moved on.”

“It’s been so hard,” agreed Ursula. “It feels like we’re forgetting him.”

“I keep feeling like that’s going to happen to one of you,” whispered Cassius. “Like there’s going to be more empty chairs. Merlin, I’ve never said that to anyone.”

“I’m glad you said it to me,” said Ursula. “I can’t promise that nothing like that will ever happen again, though Merlin knows I wish I could.”

“I’m just so scared,” said Cassius. “My father… I know he’s involved with You-Know-Who. I’m scared that I’ll get involved as well because of him. And what about my brother and sisters? I have to protect them.”

“I don’t have an answer,” said Ursula. “But I’m in just as deep as you. I promise we’ll get through this together.”


	76. Silver Badges

Cassius and Ursula sat curled up together on the couch, Ursula’s head on Cassius’s shoulder and Cassius’s head on top of hers, until it was nearly dawn. Neither went back to sleep, and none of their friends spoke about it in the morning, for which Ursula was grateful. Cassius was not used to being so vulnerable, and it would have embarrassed him further for it to be acknowledged. Ursula did insist, however, that he visit Madam Pomfrey for a Sleeping Draught.

Meanwhile, Adrian had upped Quidditch practice to three nights a week to prepare for the match against Gryffindor at the beginning of November. As it was the last time they would play Gryffindor during Ursula, Adrian, and Cassius’s time at Hogwarts, it was an incredibly important match. In addition, Adrian was eager to prove himself as captain and to recover from their defeat in fifth year.

Unfortunately, Crabbe was crap, and Goyle was worse. They couldn’t seem to grasp the strategies that Adrian was teaching them, even the simplest one. A muscle jumped in Adrian’s jaw almost constantly during practice, and the only person keeping him from absolutely losing his mind was Marcellus, who was a terrific beater. As long as they had Marcellus, Crabbe’s total lack of talent wouldn’t matter.

Windy September turned into chilly October. A notice had been put up in the common room, informing the students that the first Hogsmeade trip of the year would be on Saturday, October 7th, so Ursula wrote to Hadrian to inform him so he could come up for a visit.

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village.

Once Ursula and her friends had been cleared, they walked out onto the stone steps and the cold, sunlit day. They set off at a brisk pace down the wide drive to the gates. They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.

“Adrian and I are going to visit Zonko’s,” said Cassius. “Anyone want anything?”

“Frog spawn soap, please,” said Lilian. “I’ve got a sixth year to get revenge on.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Cassius. “Anyone else?” The rest of them shook their heads.

“I’m meeting Jacob at Madam Puddifoot’s,” said Vanessa. “Ursula, are you and Cassius meeting there for your date?”

“No, today we’re going to the Three Broomsticks,” said Ursula. “But I’ll go with you to Honeydukes first.”

“I will too,” said Lilian.

“Not me,” said Gemma. “Pick me up a pack of sugar quills, will you?”

“No problem,” said Ursula.

“Gemma, I’ll meet you in Tomes & Scrolls, yeah?” said Lilian. Gemma nodded and they all split off.

After purchasing enough sweets to last them through Christmas at Honeydukes, Lilian went to meet Gemma and Ursula and Vanessa headed up High Street. Ursula stopped in Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop for a new swan feather quill, saw that Vanessa arrived in a timely fashion to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, and then headed back down the street towards the Three Broomsticks.

As she strolled down the street, Ursula noticed a suspicious amount of fellow students going past Madam Puddifoot’s, which was typically the last desirable shop in Hogsmeade for Hogwarts students. Deciding that it wasn’t worth investigating, as it was probably nothing and Ursula counted this as her day off, she ignored it and entered the Three Broomsticks.

The pub was noticeably less crowded than usual. Hadrian waved her over from a table by the window, his suit and tie making him look like a real professional.

“Hello darling,” she said, greeting him with a peck on the cheek.

“You’re looking lovely today,” said Hadrian. “I’ve missed you. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Cherry syrup and soda, please,” said Ursula, sitting down. Hadrian went up to order, and returned in no time with their drinks. A glass of syrup and soda for Ursula and a pint of mulled mead for Hadrian.

“So, how’s Hogwarts been?” said Hadrian as he sat back down, sipping his drink.

“Alright,” said Ursula. “Professor Umbridge is a bit of a nightmare, but I’m dealing with her as best I can.”

“It’ll give you practice playing the part,” said Hadrian, a bit darkly. Ursula nodded in agreement.

“Our first Quidditch match is still about a month away,” she said. “Unfortunately, only one of our beaters is anything special. The other one can barely get off the ground.”

“You said Cassius made chaser, right?” said Hadrian, trying not to sound too eager. “How is he?”

“Yes, he’s a marvelous addition to the team,” said Ursula. “He’s been doing… fine.”

Her pause caught Hadrian’s attention.

“‘Fine’?” he said sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

“I shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but…” Ursula sighed. “He’s been having a little trouble sleeping. He isn’t over Cedric’s death and I think the hit wizard thing that happened over the summer left him with some trauma.”

Hadrian frowned.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he said. “I know I shouldn’t, but maybe I’ll write to him.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” murmured Ursula. “Anyway, in other news, I’ve begun teaching some pretty serious spells to my league.”

“That reminds me,” said Hadrian, pulling a few things out of his bag. “I found this book in Rowle Manor on dueling techniques. I thought it might be of use.”

“Yes, this is excellent,” said Ursula. “Er — what’s this?” She held up the envelope that Hadrian had set on top of the book.

“Oh, that’s just a letter for Casper,” said Hadrian. “You’re still tutoring him, right?”

“I am,” said Ursula. Casper had passed his Transfiguration OWL with an Exceeds Expectations, and Ursula met with him once every two weeks or so. “I’ll give it to him.”

“Speaking of Transfiguration, how is it going for you?” asked Hadrian.

“Well,” said Ursula. “Very well, actually. Professor McGonagall gave me a half-finished spellbook as an extra credit project. I’ve been working on filling it in.”

“Have you made much progress?”

“Some,” said Ursula. “But it’s slow going. How’s being an assistant treating you?”

“It’s wonderful,” said Hadrian. “I absolutely love it. Mr. Burke is a great boss, and I really like working in an office. I spend all day delivering memos and collecting reports. My favorite is when I get to go with Mr. Burke to fix an accident.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” said Ursula, grinning. She handed him a bag of Honeydukes products. “I picked up all your favorites.”

“You’re the best,” said Hadrian happily. He set aside the bag and his grin dropped a little. “You haven’t… heard anything?”

“Nothing,” said Ursula. “You?”

Hadrian shook his head.

“My father has been a bit suspicious lately, but that’s all,” said Hadrian. “But he’s been holding a lot of dinner parties with, you know…”

“Before I left, my uncle had been having similar parties,” said Ursula, lowering her voice just a touch. “I helped Narcissa play hostess to their wives. Something is definitely happening, and I suppose it’s only a matter of time before more people are recruited.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” said Hadrian. He took Ursula’s hand, glancing meaningfully to the side, to where sixth year Slytherins Arthur Burke and Callum Higgs had just come into the Three Broomsticks. “So… I heard a rumor that your family would be hosting the ball this Christmas?”

“You would be right,” said Ursula, with a shy smile. “My aunt has started planning already, because she wants to show up the Travers family from last year and the Shafiqs from the year before.”

“It’ll surely be the grandest affair of the season,” said Hadrian with a laugh. Ursula pulled out her grandfather’s pocket watch to check the time.

“I should probably get going,” she said. Hadrian leaned over to look at the watch.

“Have you still not figured out what it does?” he said. Ursula shook her head.

“It tracks the phases of the moon and the constellations, but I’m sure it does something else,” she said. “I don’t think it’s related to dark magic, but we’ll see.”

“I’ll visit next month, yeah?” said Hadrian, standing up and grabbing her bags for her.

“Sounds good,” said Ursula. Hadrian bent down for a kiss and then followed Ursula outside.

“Bye then,” said Ursula. “Don’t forget to write.”

“Me? Never!” said Hadrian, before he Disapparated.

~~~

Bright and early Monday morning, an enormous notice appeared in the Slytherin common room, one without any real reason behind its appearance. It was large that it covered everything else on there — the lists of secondhand spell books for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training schedule, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

— By order of —

**The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**

_ All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and _

_ Clubs are henceforth disbanded. _

_ An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby _

_ defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. _

_ Permission to re-form may be sought from the High _

_ Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). _

_ No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club _

_ may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High _

_ Inquisitor. _

_ Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an _

_ Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not _

_ been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. _

_ The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. _

_ Signed: _

Dolores Jane Umbridge

_ High Inquisitor _

“What the bloody hell is this for?” said Cassius. Ursula shrugged. Her first thought, of course, was that someone had outed the League of Laurels, but she was sure that she personally would be in much more trouble if that were the case.

Indeed, Professor Umbridge did nothing more than greet Ursula with her usual smile when they passed in the Entrance Hall as Ursula and the others headed up to breakfast, proving that her secret was still safe. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read.

“You do realize Quidditch is included in this?” said Adrian angrily at breakfast.

“I’m sure she’ll let us reform in no time,” assured Ursula. “I’ll go with you to ask her after breakfast, if you like.”

“Are you sure no one told Umbridge about the League of Laurels?” said Lilian in a hushed tone.

“Positive,” said Ursula. “For one, I jinxed the contracts ages ago.”

“You didn’t!” said Adrian, dropping his fork.

“I did,” said Ursula grimly. “And for another, the League of Laurels isn’t  _ technically  _ against the rules.”

“What do you mean?” said Cassius.

“Gemma?” said Ursula.

“The League of Laurels is not, and I quote, an ‘Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club,’” said Gemma. “As Ursula points out, it is therefore not against the rules.”

“What exactly does the jinx do?” said Lilian.

“That’s for me to know,” said Ursula mysteriously. There were a number of Slytherins throughout breakfast who tried to furtively signal to Ursula that they wanted to ask whether or not the League of Laurels would be disbanded.

Ursula answered these questions by leaving a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the Slytherin common room. She used Irises, to indicate that this was a message intended to be interpreted, Belladonna, to remind everyone that it was a secret, and chick weed, to signify a meeting, surrounded by eight white poplar leaves. She also used four fern sprigs to indicate that the meeting would happen in dungeon four, as she had indicated she would in her translation guide. And indeed, when it came time for the meeting, not a single person was missing.

Professor Umbridge was more than willing to give the Slytherin team permission to reform, but, as expected, she withheld permission from Gryffindor for a while longer, finally allowing them to reform a week later when, Ursula suspected, Professor McGonagall intervened.

As October rolled into November, the castle was battered by rain. Ursula trudged inside from Quidditch practices soaking wet and splattered with mud, and no matter how much she enjoyed the sport, she hated playing in the rain.

Ursula’s Care of Magical Creatures classes — still taught by Professor Grubbly-Plank — had been relocated from the stormswept grounds to a free classroom on the ground floor, and it was hard to hear what Professor Sprout was saying in Herbology over the hammering of raindrops hard as hailstones on the greenhouse roof. Rue and the twins had long since made up, which was a relief to everyone, and even Rue and Ursula were polite, if not quite friendly, with one another.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snow-capped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The League of Laurels meetings were put on hold in the two weeks leading up to the Slythern versus Gryffindor match, because Adrian insisted on almost daily practices. Ursula carried with her a sort of grim pride for how much progress the league had made, because even though it meant they were prepared, it was also an acknowledgement of what was likely to happen in the future.

The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretense of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side’s victory.

While Professor McGonagall had reportedly given the fifth year Gryffindors no homework, Professor Snape was even less opaque about his partisanship: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors.

When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Professor Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Graham Montague, hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library.

The night before the match, Cassius approached Adrian and Ursula, who had been reviewing strategies with him.

“We have a problem,” said Cassius hesitantly.

“What is it?” said Adrian, immediately jumping to his feet. “What’s happened?”

“Don’t freak out, but Marcellus is in the Hospital Wing with a concussion and can’t play tomorrow,” Cassius rushed out. Ursula swore.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Adrian. “Fuck!” He rounded on Cassius. “Are you sure he can’t play?”

“What happened?” said Ursula.

“Madam Pomfrey says he’s not allowed,” said Cassius. “Cormac McLaggen, that big Gryffindor idiot, cursed Marcellus and I think he hit his head when he fell down or something. Don’t worry, I’ve already tracked him down and put him in detention.”

“And presumably threatened him within an inch of his life,” said Ursula.

“Of course. No one hurts my family and gets away with it,” said Cassius. “But it means Goyle will have to play.”

“Bloody hell,” said Adrian, his hands over his face. “We’re screwed.”

“No we’re not,” said Ursula. “We can still win without our beaters.”

“Ursula’s right,” said Cassius. “We’ve got this.”

~~~

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. Ursula awoke early, and found Adrian and Cassius waiting for her in the common room. Cassiuss’s look of determination made him appear even more intimidating than usual, while Adrian’s pale face did not detract from his intense glare.

The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. A great deal of noise broke out when Ursula, Cassius, and Adrian arrived — the Gryffindors booed, and the Slytherins roared with cheers. Many Slytherins were wearing silver badges in the shape of crowns, in addition to the usual green-and-silver scarves and hats.

“What’s this?” hissed Ursula to Adrian as they sat down.

“Something your cousin put together,” he replied. “You’ll see.”

“But what is it for?” pressed Ursula. Cassius and Adrian exchanged a look.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, that’s why we didn’t tell you,” said Cassius.

“Wouldn’t like  _ what _ , exactly?” said Ursula, her eyes glinting dangerously.

It wasn’t until Draco came to join them as the Slytherin team left the Great Hall that Ursula got a good look at the words etched onto the silver badges:  _ Weasley is our king _ .

“One of you had better tell me what is going on,” said Ursula, her voice low, as they left the entrance hall, hurried down the stone steps, and went out into the icy air.

“It’s about the new Gryffindor keeper,” hissed Adrian. “It was Malfoy’s idea.”

“Like hell it was,” said Ursula.

The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. Cassius pointed out these encouraging factors to Ursula, but she was just as pissed as him.

When the whole team was there and dressed, they sat down for a pep talk from Adrian, who reminded them how important it was that they win and of each of their roles. They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators’ stands now. Some people were singing, though Ursula could not make out the words and did not want to know, as she rather thought she wasn’t going to like what she heard.

“Alright. It’s time,” said Adrian gravely, his posture stiff.

The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Ursula could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles.

They arrived on the pitch before the Gryffindors. Only Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle wore the silver badges, as Adrian and Cassius had the good sense to take them off before Ursula saw and Montague didn’t care enough to wear one. When the Gryffindors did arrive, Ursula’s scowl transformed into a cool glare, as no matter how angry she was, she still wanted to win.

“Captains shake hands,” ordered the referee, Madam Hooch, as Adrian and Angelina reached each other. It looked like both were trying to break the other’s fingers. “Mount your brooms…”

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward; Ursula went for the Quaffle but Angelina got there first, and she took off on her tail.

“And it’s Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, Johnson passes to Spinnet, Spinnet with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me —”

“JORDAN!” yelled Professor McGonagall.

“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Pucey, she’s — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Pucey catches the Quaffle, Pucey heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that’s a Bludger to the head for Pucey, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet’s away —”

Lee Jordan’s commentary rang through the stadium and Ursula used it as background information as she dodged Bludgers and wove between players.

“— dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Alicia — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”

And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

_ Weasley cannot save a thing, _

_ He cannot block a single ring, _

_ That’s why Slytherins all sing: _

_ Weasley is our King. _

_ Weasley was born in a bin, _

_ He always lets the Quaffle in, _

_ Weasley will make sure we win, _

_ Weasley is our King. _

“— and Alicia passes back to Angelina!” Lee shouted. Ursula cursed under her breath, trying not to let her anger cloud her playing ability. “Come on now, Angelina — looks like she’s got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah…”

Montague, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Cassius who sped off with it, zigzagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer to Ron —

_ Weasley is our King, _

_ Weasley is our King, _

_ He always lets the Quaffle in, _

_ Weasley is our King _

Ron was a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goal hoops while Cassius pelted toward him, Ursula following…

“— and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he’s out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead, Warrington passes to Black, now it’s Black, Ursula Black, with the Quaffle, with only the Keeper in her way —”

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

_ Weasley cannot save a thing, _

_ He cannot block a single ring… _

“— so it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!”

But Ursula took the shot, causing Ron to dive wildly, his arms wide, letting the Quaffle soar between them, straight through the center hoop. A scream of delight rose from the Slytherins. Ursula high fived Cassius, pumping her fist in the air.

“Slytherin score!” came Lee’s voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. “So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron…”

The Slytherins sang even louder:

_ WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, _

_ HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN… _

“— and Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell tearing up the pitch —” cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

_ WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN, _

_ WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . . _

“— and it’s Black again,” bellowed Lee, “who passes to Warrington, Warrington’s off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him — turns out you can’t — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er — drops it too — so that’s Pucey with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Pucey takes the Quaffle, and he’s off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!”

Ursula and Cassius flanked Adrian in the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, protecting him from Bludgers and scattering the Gryffindor chasers to allow him the chance to score.

“— and Pucey’s dodged Alicia again, and he’s heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!”

There was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins.

“Yeah!” shouted Adrian, taking a victory lap above the Slytherin section of the stands.

_ THAT’S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING: _

_ WEASLEY IS OUR KING. _

Ursula scored a second time, stealing the Quaffle from Angelina and dodging simultaneous Bludger attacks. Cassius scored next, bringing the score up to forty-zero.

“— and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Black, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle…”

Ursula caught a pass from Adrian and passed quickly to Cassius, who passed back to her a moment later. The Quaffle was just out of her grasp and she had to lunge to grasp it, putting her right in the path of Goyle, who wasn’t paying attention, missed the Bludger he swung at, and hit her right in the stomach with his bat.

“OUCH! Goyle mistakes his own teammate for a Bludger! That had to hurt,” said Lee, as Ursula doubled over on her broom, nearly losing her breakfast, and dropped the Quaffle. “Slytherin Captain Pucey yells at Goyle for nearly killing Black — meanwhile Bell takes possession of the Quaffle, passes to Johnson, Warrington intercepts!”

Cassius swerved, nearly colliding with Angelina as he snatched the Quaffle out of the air in front of her.

“— Warrington throws to Pucey, Pucey to Black, who seems to have recovered, Black back to Pucey — Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good — I mean bad — Bell’s hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it’s Pucey in possession again…”

_ WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, _

_ HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN, _

_ WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN — _

Out of the corner of her eye Ursula saw Harry dive towards the ground in front of the Slytherin stands. Draco followed and Adrian yelled at him to go faster, because they would lose if Harry caught the Snitch —

But Harry snatched the Snitch, Draco’s fingers only inches away, and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval.

_ WHAM! _

A Bludger hit him square in the back and he was knocked off of his broom onto the ground, which was luckily for him only a few feet below. Madam Hooch blew her shrill whistle and an uproar in the stands rose, comprised of catcalls, angry yells, and jeering.

The rest of the Slytherin team landed angrily on the ground as Madam Hooch sped towards Crabbe to admonish him for hitting Harry after the game had ended.

Ursula was exhausted and in pain, fairly sure Goyle had broken a rib or two, but her attention was drawn by Draco, who had unwisely decided to taunt Ron.

“— we couldn’t fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know —”

Fred and George had realized what Draco was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry’s hand they stiffened, looking around at Draco.

“Leave it,” said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little —”

“— but you like the Weasleys, don’t you, Potter?” said Draco, sneering. “Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys’ hovel smells okay —”

“Draco!” snapped Ursula, followed by a sharp intake of breath as the exclamation caused her searing pain. “Draco don’t you dare —”

Harry grabbed hold of George; meanwhile it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Draco, who was laughing openly. Cassius grabbed Ursula’s arm, holding her back.

“It’s not worth it,” he said. “And you’re hurt —”

“It bloody well is worth it,” snapped Ursula, yanking her arm out of Cassius’s grasp. She chucked her broom down on the ground and stalked towards Draco.

“Or perhaps,” said Draco, leering as he backed away, “you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it —”

Harry released George, and the two of them tackled Draco.

“Harry! HARRY! GEORGE!  _ NO _ !” shouted the Gryffindor chasers.

“Draco!” shouted Ursula, running forward, Cassius on her heels. “You bleeding idiot!”

The crowd bellowed as they observed the fight. Madam Hooch landed, blasting on her whistle, pulled out her wand, and said, “ _ IMPEDIMENTA _ !”

“What do you think you’re doing?” screamed Madam Hooch. Harry jumped to his feet, his knuckles bruised. Draco was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. “I’ve never seen behavior like it — back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House’s office! Go! Now!”

“Draco!” Ursula roared, as Harry and George marched angrily away. “Changing room.  _ Now _ .”

She seized him by the neck of his robes and hauled him to his feet, marching him towards the changing room, where she proceeded to do what she probably should have done a long time ago: yell at Draco until her voice went hoarse. And when she was done reprimanding him in English, she switched to French, and shouted some more, until she’d laid out every last grievance and explained exactly what was wrong about his actions.

Ursula shouted so loudly that she frightened her other teammates, who were forced to wait awkwardly outside of the changing room for fear of being caught in her wrath.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” she thundered. “THAT WAS DESPICABLE, PETTY, IDIOTIC, CONTEMPTABLE, ABSOLUTELY ABHORRENT BEHAVIOR. DO YOU HAVE ANY MORALS?”

Another jolt of pain shot through her and she sank onto a bench.

“Detention,” she snapped. “For two weeks. Consider yourself lucky that I don’t strip you of your prefect’s badge and have you thrown off the team. You’ve done  _ far _ more than disappoint me this time, Draco, now get out of my sight.”

Draco trudged dejectedly out of the changing room, holding a tissue to his bloody nose, and Cassius came hesitantly in.

“Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing,” he murmured, slinging an arm around her waist and helping her stand.

“Adrian —”

“He’s already kicked both Crabbe and Goyle off the team,” said Cassius. “I gave them both detention. And Umbridge’s done  _ something _ to Potter and Weasley, but I don’t know what.”

“She’s foul,” hissed Ursula. “Draco’s gone too far this time.”

“I’ve never seen you this angry,” mused Cassius, as he helped Ursula up the steps to the castle. “It’s actually sort of scary.”

~~~

“Banned,” said Angelina in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. “Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters… What on earth are we going to do?”

It did not feel as though they had won the match at all. Everywhere Harry looked there were disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.

“It’s just so unfair,” said Alicia numbly. “I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?”

“No,” said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry. “He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner.”

“And banning Fred when he didn’t even do anything!” said Alicia furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t,” said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face. “I would’ve pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn’t been holding me back.”

Harry stared miserably at the dark window. Snow was falling. The Snitch he had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room; people were watching its progress as though hypnotized and Crookshanks was leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it.

“On the bright side,” began Fred.

“Is there a bright side?” said Angelina hollowly.

“Ursula yelled at Draco for a good twenty minutes,” offered Fred. “She was yelling at him in French when I left the locker room. I could hear it through the wall. I’ve never seen her so angry.”

“Serves him right,” grunted George. “The little snake.”

~~~

Ursula spent the night in the Hospital Wing at Madam Pomfrey’s insistence. As her ribs healed, she had time to compose herself to prevent another angry outburst. Adrian had come to visit, and she had confronted him about the badges and the song, which he apologized for. He then said he would hold another round of beater tryouts to replace Crabbe.

Ursula found out through Gemma that Professor Umbridge had passed another educational decree — number 25 — which gave her authority over all punishments. Apparently she had banned Fred, George, and Harry from playing Quidditch at Hogwarts ever again. Lilian came by after dinner with Betelgeuse and more news.

“He kept scratching at the door,” she said, setting him on Ursula’s bed. Betelgeuse immediately rubbed his head against her chin, purring, before settling himself on her lap.

“Hello Beej,” cooed Ursula, scratching his head.

“Malfoy deserved to get beat up, you know,” said Lilian, sitting down. Ursula snorted.

“Is it bad a small part of me enjoyed it?” she said. “He’s just been such a prick lately. Maybe a little ass-kicking will straighten him out. Either way, I’m going to make him apologize if I can.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Lilian. She peered out the dark window at the snow-covered grounds. “Hey, I think there’s someone out there.”

Ursula turned, straining to see.

“Hagrid!” she said, a grin taking over her face. “Hagrid’s back!”


	77. Dumbledore's Army

The following weekend, Adrian held a second round of tryouts, desperate to find a new beater, and not caring that there was practically two feet of snow on the ground. He had kicked both Crabbe and Goyle off the team and figured anyone would be better than them. Thankfully, a sixth year named Edmund Urquhart showed up, explaining he had missed the first tryouts because he was in the Hospital Wing. He was nearly as good as Marcellus, and Adrian was thrilled to add him to the team.

Ursula was positively thrilled to see Hagrid had returned, although not many students shared her sentiment. Fred and George roared with delight and sprinted up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables to wring Hagrid’s enormous hand while Rue huffed and rolled her eyes. Hagrid looked distinctly worse for wear, his face a patchwork of fresh cuts and purple, green, and yellow bruises.

Nevertheless, Ursula was delighted to have him back, and headed down to Care of Magical Creatures after lunch on Monday with an added bounce in her step. She was, of course, concerned what Professor Umbridge would think of Hagrid, who did not present a reassuring sight, but that was a problem for the future.

She, the Weasley twins, and Rue struggled through the snow towards Hagrid, who stood waiting for them on the edge of the forest with what looked like half a dead cow slung over his shoulder.

“We’re workin’ in here today!” Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. “Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark…”

He led them into the dim, snowy forest, talking as he went.

“Yeh’ve been in here before, o’ course,” he said. “But I thought visiting the thestrals in their natural habitat was best.”

“We’re working with thestrals today, then?” said Ursula excitedly. Rue muttered something like  _ Obviously _ under her breath, but Ursula paid her no mind.

“Thestrals are pretty rare, an’ I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ’em,” said Hagrid. “I got ’em to pull the carriages, yeh see.”

They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow on the ground at all. Hagrid deposited his half a cow with a grunt on the ground, stepped back, and turned to face his class again. Fred and George looked curious, and Rue’s arms were crossed apprehensively but she still looked interested. Ursula tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Gather roun’, gather roun’,” said Hagrid encouragingly. “Now, they’ll be attracted by the smell o’ the meat but I’m goin’ ter give ’em a call anyway, ’cause they’ll like ter know it’s me…”

He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face, and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer into the trees, and then Ursula gasped as she saw one.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck, and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs.

“Er — why don’t you call again?” said Fred to Hagrid, frowning.

“Don’t need ter,” said Hagrid. “How many of yeh can see ‘em?” Ursula put her hand up. “Just Ursula? Anyone know why the rest of yeh can’t seem ‘em?”

“Thestrals can only be seen by people who’ve seen death,” said Rue.

“Five points ter Ravenclaw,” said Hagrid. “Since not everyone can see ‘em, they get an unlucky reputation, see, but they’re dead clever an’ useful! Hogwarts has got a whole herd of ’em in here.”

Two more thestrals had arrived by now, and were tearing away at the dead cow.

“Right’, so today yeh’re gonna be groomin’ ‘em, cleanin’ their hooves an’ the like,” said Hagrid. “Ursula, Rue, you two take Tenebrus here —” He patted the first thestral. “— he’s friendly, won’t mind a pat. Fred an’ George, you two come here an’ I’ll show yeh all how to care for q’em. There’s a bit o’ a trick ter it, ‘specially if yeh can’t see ‘em.”

Overall, it was a highly enjoyable class. Tenebrus was friendly and it was fun to groom his leathery wings. More and more thestrals arrived, drawn by the scent of meat, until the class was surrounded by a herd that was invisible to all but Ursula and Hagrid. Rue and Ursula managed to get along over their shared enthusiasm for the thestrals.

As they moved towards the end of November, the castle grew colder and colder. Hufflepuff defeated Ravenclaw heavily, in a match that left everyone in the audience shivering and with red noses. Ursula and her friends struggled through the snow for another Hogsmeade visit in the last week of November, then struggled on with their ever-growing load of homework.

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the seventh years. As Professor McGonagall had mentioned at the beginning of the year, the seventh years were required to meet with their Head of House throughout the year about the career they wanted to pursue upon graduation.

Ursula met with Professor Snape on Monday afternoon, staying in his class after Potions. Even though she was among his favorite students, she could see the distaste he had for dragonology.

“The largest dragon sanctuary is located in Romania,” said Professor Snape, handing her a red and black pamphlet with a gold dragon stamped onto the front. “It is also the most suitable for an internship. I am told the training program is less than a year long.”

Ursula nodded, flipping open the pamphlet and reading the list of requirements.

“If you wish to be considered for the internship, you will need to apply several weeks in advance of your NEWTs, and then the Ministry will send along your scores,” said Professor Snape. “It is our aim that the majority of Hogwarts students graduate with a position in the workforce or in a training program.”

“How soon would I find out whether or not I’ve been accepted?” said Ursula.

“Likely the week following your NEWTs, before you graduate,” said Professor Snape. “I would advise that you apply to a secondary program in case your first application fails.”

Ursula nodded again, accepting three more pamphlets from Professor Snape, one of them being an application to work as a healer, another for the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

“Am I qualified for these positions, sir?” said Ursula.

“A Healer needs an ‘Outstanding’ or ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Professor Snape. “You are succeeding in all five classes, correct?”

“I am, yes sir,” said Ursula.

“Professor Umbridge —” Saying her name made Professor Snape’s lip curl in disgust. “— has put you forward as a suitable candidate for a Ministry position, so with your other interests you would be best suited to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“Has she indeed,” said Ursula. “Thank you, Professor Snape. I shall consider my options carefully.”

“Good day, Ms. Black,” said Professor Snape.

The evaluations for Ursula’s friends went much the same as her own. Gemma came back with no less than eight pamphlets concerning different Ministry positions, and discussed each of them with great excitement.

“The International Magical Office of Law or the International Magical Trading Standards Body are my favorite,” said Gemma briskly. “Professor Snape said I might be able to set up an interview at the end of the year.”

“If you want, I can ask Professor Umbridge about having the interview here,” said Ursula.

“I might take you up on that,” said Gemma. “How was yours, Cassius?”

“Perfectly terrible, as it happens,” said Cassius lightly. “I’ll continue being a Hit Wizard, of course, and my father might set up an interview at the Ministry. ” He shrugged. “Adrian, what about you?”

“Well, it’s kind of up in the air,” said Adrian, his shoulders tense. “I want to play Quidditch professionally, you know? But it’s  _ so  _ competitive.”

“You can do it,” said Cassius. “Lils, what about you?”

“Snape tried to steer me away from working with Muggles,” said Lilian, pursing her lips. “He gave me one brochure about the Muggle Liaison Office and sent me on my way! Thankfully I also met with Professor Burbage.”

“Really?” said Ursula. “What did she have to say?”

“Well, she said she would put me in touch with people she knows in Muggle Relations,” said Lilian. “She also gave me a pamphlet about the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.”

“You don’t want to work there,” said Adrian, with a snort. Lilian frowned.

“Maybe I do,” she retorted, sobering him.

Lilian wasn’t the only one who sought advice from someone other than Professor Snape. Ursula went to Professor McGonagall to talk about how she could continue studying Transfiguration even after she graduated. Professor McGonagall, very clearly pleased, laid out the process for applying to the Society of Distinguished Transfigurers and explained that, as a member herself, she could nominate Ursula.

She also asked about Ursula’s progress in the book she had given her, and Ursula explained that she was nearly halfway through, but had become stuck on one problem. Professor McGonagall didn’t offer her assistance, and she didn’t ask for any. Ursula was determined to do it herself.

Ursula also met with Professor Umbridge, but for reasons unrelated to her future career. Ursula had been meeting with her regularly, and recently, noticing Professor Umbridge’s love of cats, had begun bringing Betelgeuse with her.

This provided several challenges. For one thing, Betelgeuse and Delilah had recently had a second litter, this time of six kittens rather than four, and Betelgeuse didn’t like to be away from them. The bigger challenge, however, was that Betelgeuse didn’t trust Professor Umbridge one bit. He didn’t like her, either, as Ursula discovered when she noticed, out of the corner of her eye as Professor Umbridge droned on about Educational Decrees, that Betelgeuse had just peed on her carpet.

It took every ounce of nerve Ursula had to stifle laughter and not show a single sign that something was amiss. Betelgeuse jumped onto Professor Umbridge’s desk, purring his sarcastic — could Kneazles be sarcastic? — purr.

“Yes, professor, I understand,” said Ursula, snapping back to the conversation. “The decorations are set to go up next week.”

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I trust that you will make sure they are formal and proper.”

“I will,” said Ursula. She stood, scooping Betelgeuse into her arms. “Good day, Professor Umbridge.”

“Good day Ms. Black,” Professor Umbridge replied, with what could only be described as a warm, if not slightly toadlike, smile.

“You naughty, naughty boy,” whispered Ursula to Betelgeuse as she carried him down to the Slytherin common room. Betelgeuse purred, understanding that she wasn’t really angry with him.

Ursula joined Lilian and Vanessa in the common room, where they were busy playing with the kittens. Betelgeuse leapt out of her arms and was immediately swarmed by his children.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” said Ursula, picking up a cream colored kitten named Octavia. She had been born fourth out of the litter, making her Betelgeuse and Delilah’s eighth kitten overall.

“What?” said Lilian.

“Betelgeuse peed in Professor Umbridge’s office,” said Ursula. Lilian burst out laughing, startling the kittens. “Worse, she didn’t notice.”

“What did you do?” asked Vanessa, her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“Nothing! What could I have done?” said Ursula, laughing despite herself.

“Good boy, Betelgeuse,” said Lilian, scratching the Kneazle in question behind the ears.

“How’s the search for homes for these kittens going?” said Vanessa. Ursula sighed.

“Octavia is going to Draco — she likes him — and Valentine here is for Hadrian,” said Ursula, pointing to the largest and oldest kitten, who was striped black-and-ginger. “He wants to give one to his cousin, so that’ll be Sebastian. But that still leaves three without owners.”

“You’re going to take them home with you, right?” said Vanessa. Ursula nodded.

“Yes, and I’m hoping to find homes for them then. Which reminds me,” said Ursula, turning to Lilian, “I want you to come to the ball on Christmas Eve, if you’re able. It would really mean a lot to me if you came.”

“I’m not sure if I belong there, but okay,” said Lilian, nodding. “I’d love to.”

“Excellent,” said Ursula, grinning. “Then it’s settled.”

The following weekend, just as she had promised Professor Umbridge — who, to the best of Ursula’s knowledge, had not traced the mysterious dark spot on her carpet back to Betelgeuse — Ursula and Lewis called upon the prefects to supervise decorating the castle. It was difficult to put up tinsel when Peeves was trying to strangle someone with the other end, so Ursula called in the Bloody Baron to keep him away.

Twelve giant fir trees went up in the Great Hall, decorated with baubles and glowing, multicolored lights. Mistletoe and holly lined the halls, with wreaths bedecked with red ribbon bows hung on every teacher’s door. Ursula wanted the castle to be extra resplendent this year. Fake icicles glittered on every windowsill, and enchanted snow fell from the ceiling of the Great Hall.

Ursula’s other duties as Head Girl included supervising the first and second years spending their break times inside because of the bitter cold. Some of them were prone to rudeness, as Ursula heard from Draco, but no talking back or rude behavior ever reached her and Cassius, simply because no first year would dare. They also had to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels. This left Ursula with so little time to complete her homework that she was at her desk working until the early hours of the morning, when even Gemma had gone to bed.

On the last Monday before winter break, Ursula set out to patrol the corridors, hopefully with Blossom like she usually did. It took her so long to find Blossom that she was almost convinced she had forgotten about her patrol duties.

“Blossom! There you are,” said Ursula, hurrying towards her friend when she finally found her on the sixth floor. “Where were you?”

“Oh, I just —” Blossom looked slightly guilty and Ursula’s eyes narrowed. Something was afoot.

“Where were you going?” said Ursula, her tone sharpening ever so slightly.

“Nowhere,” said Blossom, shifting from foot to foot.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Who were you going to see?”

“No one.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar,” said Ursula. “What’s really going on?”

“I… I can’t tell you,” said Blossom, avoiding meeting Ursula’s intense gaze.

“You’ll just have to show me then,” said Ursula crisply. “You were supposed to meet me for patrol, so I need to know where —”

“Yes,” said Blossom, something dawning on her. “Yes, I could show you. Come on!”

She grabbed Ursula’s wrist and led her quickly up the stairs. They reached the seventh floor and Blossom dragged her down the left corridor. For a second they faced nothing but a blank stretch of wall, and then a door blossomed out of nowhere.

“What is this?” said Ursula suspiciously. She had not known that there was a room here.

“You’ll see,” said Blossom, opening the door.

A few strands of golden baubles were strung across the high ceiling, and mistletoe was hung here and there. There was even a Christmas tree in the corner of the wide room. More than the decorations, though, Ursula noticed the two dozen or so students scattered about the room, who all froze when she entered, their eyes snapping to her. Ursula could immediately tell that she was not welcome here.

“Sorry we’re late!” chirped Blossom.

“What is this?” repeated Ursula to Blossom.

“This is Dumbledore’s Army,” replied Blossom happily.

~~~

Harry arrived early in the Room of Requirement for the last DA meeting before the holidays and was very glad he had, because when the lamps burst into light he saw that Dobby had taken it upon himself to decorate the place for Christmas. He could tell the elf had done it, because nobody else would have strung a hundred golden baubles from the ceiling, each showing a picture of Harry’s face and bearing the legend  _ HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS! _

Harry had only just managed to get the last of them down before the door creaked open and Luna Lovegood entered, looking dreamy as always.

“Hello,” she said vaguely, looking around at what remained of the decorations. “These are nice, did you put them up?”

“No,” said Harry, “it was Dobby the house-elf.”

“Mistletoe,” said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry’s head. He jumped out from under it. “Good thinking,” said Luna very seriously. “It’s often infested with nargles.”

Harry was saved the necessity of asking what nargles were by the arrival of Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. All three of them were breathless and looked very cold.

“Well,” said Angelina dully, pulling off her cloak and throwing it into a corner, “we’ve replaced you.”

“Replaced me?” said Harry blankly.

“You and Fred and George,” she said impatiently. “We’ve got another Seeker!”

“Who?” said Harry quickly.

“Ginny Weasley,” said Katie.

Harry gaped at her.

“Yeah, I know,” said Angelina, pulling out her wand and flexing her arm. “But she’s pretty good, actually. Nothing on you, of course,” she said, throwing him a very dirty look, “but as we can’t have you…”

Harry bit back the retort he was longing to utter: Did she imagine for a second that he did not regret his expulsion from the team a hundred times more than she did?

“And what about the Beaters?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“Andrew Kirke,” said Alicia without enthusiasm, “and Jack Sloper. Neither of them are brilliant, but compared with the rest of the idiots who turned up…”

The arrival of Ron, Hermione, and Neville brought this depressing discussion to an end and within five minutes, the room was full enough to prevent him seeing Angelina’s burning, reproachful looks.

“Okay,” he said, calling them all to order. “I thought this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the holidays and there’s no point starting anything new right before a three-week break —”

The door to the Room of Requirement creaked open and in came a seventh year Hufflepuff named Blossom Ash, accompanied by one of the last people Harry expected to see: Ursula Black.

“What is she doing here?” whispered Harry to Ron and Hermione.

It was as if the entire room had frozen, caught under the threatening gaze of the Head Girl. Ursula stood in the doorway for a moment beside Blossom, her grey eyes surveying the room severely. Harry had a sinking feeling that this was it for Dumbledore’s Army, that they had been betrayed, and that Professor Umbridge would soon find out, if she didn’t already know.

“Sorry we’re late!” chirped Blossom. Ursula murmured something to her and she replied. Nodding, Ursula followed Blossom further into the room, the crowd parting silently to let them pass.

“Er — right,” said Harry, forgetting his train of thought entirely. “We can, uh, practice in pairs. We’ll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.”

They all divided up obediently; Harry partnered Neville as usual. The room was soon full of intermittent cries of “ _ Impedimenta _ !” People froze for a minute or so, during which their partners would stare aimlessly around the room watching other pairs at work, then would unfreeze and take their turn at the jinx.

It was lucky, almost, that Ursula had come with Blossom; Harry was sure no one else would’ve dared partner with her. In fact, everyone seemed to be quite afraid of her, even though she showed no signs of betraying them. Harry was a bit afraid, if he was being honest.

“Shouldn’t she sign the paper?” suggested Ron to Hermione and Harry in an undertone. “To prove she won’t betray us?”

“Good thinking,” whispered back Hermione. “You ask her.”

“Me?” said Ron. “I’m not asking her, have Harry do it!”

“No way,” said Harry. “It was your idea, you do it!”

“Are you kidding? Look at her! She’s bloody terrifying!”

Ursula was now demonstrating a spell to Blossom that was neither the Impediment Jinx nor the Stunning Spell; it looked to be both more powerful and more dangerous. 

“For Merlin’s sake, I’ll do it,” snapped Hermione, grabbing the list and a quill. She gulped nervously and marched off across the room, her head held high.

Harry and Ron watched apprehensively as Hermione approached Ursula, holding out the list of names in a quivering hand. Ursula turned from where she was practicing with Blossom, drawing herself up to her full height, which made her tower over Hermione. But, to their surprise, Ursula accepted the quill and signed her name on the parchment with no problem. Hermione visibly relaxed as she headed triumphantly back to Harry and Ron.

~~~

“That was… odd,” said Ursula, resuming practice with Blossom after Hermione Granger left. She had agreed to sign the list of Dumbledore’s Army participants only because she was sure it had been jinxed to protect the members.

“They’re all scared of you,” said Blossom matter-of-factly. “Well, maybe not everyone, but the fifth years certainly are.”

Ursula grinned.

“They all thought I was going to tell Professor Umbridge,” she said. “I mean, when I walked in beside you —”

“Everyone was petrified!” said Blossom, giggling. “For the record, I never thought you’d tell.”

“You wouldn’t have brought me to the meeting if you doubted,” said Ursula. “I like it here. It’s smart. To be prepared.”

“Since Slytherins were never specifically prohibited from coming, I figured there was nothing stopping me from bringing you,” said Blossom. “Speaking of which, I do feel a bit bad that there are no other Slytherins here to learn defense. I mean, you deserve to be prepared to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ursula, smiling wider. She may have just discovered Dumbledore’s Army, but the League of Laurels would stay a secret. A secret that she was very, very proud of.


	78. The Christmas Ball

On Saturday, the Hogwarts students took carriages to Hogsmeade Station, where the Hogwarts Express was waiting for them. Ursula hefted the basket of kittens into her compartment, but as soon as she set it down, one of the kittens pushed open the top and sprang out, quickly followed by the others.

“Bloody hell,” said Ursula, scooping up Sebastian and Octavia. “Here — hold them.”

She shoved the kittens into Cassius’s hands and hurried out into the corridor, scanning for the kittens and hoping they wouldn’t get stepped on. Ursula quickly found Maximilian and Alastair, shaking her head as she lifted them quickly out of harm’s way.

Valentine, the trouble-making leader of the group, had bounded too far ahead for Ursula to chase, both because of dignity and time.

“Hold it!” she said loudly, in her most authoritative voice, and everyone in the corridor halted, their heads turning to look at her. “Has anyone seen a black kitten?”

“Here!” called a sixth year Ravenclaw, Alex Sykes, holding the kitten in question high in the air. Ursula hurried through the crowd, who resumed their movement, and took Valentine from Alex, thanking him.

Now she had three kittens, with two more in her compartment with Cassius, which left just one missing.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” called Ursula, trying to hold onto the three she was already holding as she searched for Penelope. She ended up asking around in other compartments if anyone had seen a black and white kitten.

Finding no success, Ursula headed in the opposite direction of where the rest of the kittens had run off, continuing her compartment-by-compartment search.

“Excuse me,” said Ursula. “Has anyone seen —”

“This kitten?” said Rue. She was alone in the compartment save for Lee Jordan. She held up Penelope, who was purring in her hand.

“Yes,” said Ursula, relieved. “Thank you, I’ll take her.”

Rue seemed hesitant to hand Penelope back to Ursula.

“You’re, er, looking for homes for them, right?” she said.

“Yes, I am,” said Ursula, sensing where this was going. “Penelope doesn’t have a home yet.”

“Penelope,” said Rue, looking down at the kitten in her hand. She looked quickly up at Ursula, her eyes pausing on the other three kittens Ursula was struggling to hold. “Alright. I’ll take her.”

“Alright. If you’re sure,” replied Ursula. “Do you need a basket or anything?”

“No,” said Rue shortly, before adding, “… thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” said Ursula. “Take good care of her.”

She left, carrying her armful of kittens back to her own compartment and detangling Valentine from where his claws had sunk into her sweater.

“Aren’t you missing one?” said Cassius, still holding Sebastian and Octavia.

“She’s been adopted,” said Ursula breezily.

“How convenient,” said Vanessa.

A few hours later, the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The students departed, wishing each other a happy Christmas or making plans to visit and finding their families.

“This is a nice surprise,” said Ursula, when she stepped off the train to find Hadrian waiting for her. He gave her a quick kiss and immediately took her trunk and Agatha’s cage, so she could better carry Betelgeuse and the kittens.

“It’s a stroke of genius on my part, if you ask me,” muttered Hadrian, grinning. “Your aunt and uncle were surprised to see me when they showed up, but look positively thrilled.”

“You do have your brilliant moments,” said Ursula. She waved to Lucius and Narcissa, who nodded back to her. “I suppose you’re taking me home, then?”

“Seems that way,” said Hadrian. They Disapparated separately, arriving at the bottom of Corvus Manor’s front steps at the same time.

“Mistress Ursula! Mr. Rowle!” squeaked Helgie, opening the front door at once and snapping her fingers, so that Ursula’s trunk zoomed away up the stairs. “We was not expecting Mr. Rowle. Dimsey has put tea in the library, Mistress.”

“Thank you Helgie,” said Ursula. “It’s good to be home.”

She and Hadrian entered the library, which looked as if it had been recently dusted, just as Dimsey was setting a plate of biscuits on the tea tray. Ursula opened the basket of kittens, letting the remaining five jump out and trail after their father.

“This one’s yours,” said Ursula, picking up Valentine and handing him to Hadrian. “He’s a right trouble-maker. His name is Valentine.”

“Hello Val!” cooed Hadrian. “Aww, he doesn’t seem so bad.”

Ursula smiled.

“He’s a sweetheart, but don’t leave any glasses of water on the edges of any tables,” she advised.

“Which one can I give to Viola?” asked Hadrian, letting Valentine run along and play.

“Sebastian,” said Ursula, picking up the white kitten in question. “Which only leaves two to be adopted. Do you have any ideas?”

Hadrian shrugged.

“I’m sure there will be someone at the ball willing to adopt,” he said. “Speaking of which, what color will you be wearing? I need to make sure my suit is coordinated.”

“Midnight blue,” said Ursula. “If you have any blue and silver cufflinks, that would be perfect.”

“You’re in luck,” said Hadrian. “Now, obviously I got you the customary expensive set of jewelry to present you with at the ball, but I  _ also _ got you this.”

He pulled a small tube out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“A film canister?” said Ursula, shaking it gently to see if she could discern what was inside.

“Not  _ just _ a film canister,” said Hadrian. Ursula popped open the lid and dumped a handful of small, iridescent rocks into her hand.

“They're beautiful,” said Ursula. “But… what are they?”

“They’re called galaxy rocks,” explained Hadrian. “They track the planets and the stars. You could put them in a dish in the garden or wherever, and they’ll move of their own accord.”

“That’s marvelous,” said Ursula, sliding them back into the canister. “Thank you.”

Dimsey entered the library just then, hesitancy clear on his face.

“Dimsey is sorry for interrupting, Mistress, but there’s a house elf here to see Mistress,” he said.

“A house elf?” said Ursula. “Really?”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Dimsey, nodding emphatically. “It is Kreacher, Mistress, from Grimmauld Place.”

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” said Hadrian, standing up and pecking Ursula on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the Greengrass wedding next week.”

“Goodbye,” said Ursula. Hadrian picked up Valentine and Sebastian and left, and Ursula went down to the kitchen with Dimsey.

There, she found Kreacher waiting for her just as Dimsey had said, with Helgie hovering anxiously next to him. Kreacher bowed to Ursula.

“Kreacher,” Ursula greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Master Sirius told Kreacher to get out, oh, yes, he did, so Kreacher came here, to Mistress Ursula,” said Kreacher. “Kreacher wishes to serve Mistress Ursula, he does.”

“I see.”

Ursula’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t send Kreacher back to Grimmauld Place, not when he was here — she had to take him to Malfoy Manor. She had to play her part. She just prayed she wouldn’t be damned to hear what Kreacher had to say about the Order.

“Very well,” said Ursula. “Kreacher, I will take you to Malfoy Manor. You will answer any questions Lucius and Narcissa ask you, unless they pertain to me.”

“Yes, Mistress Ursula,” said Kreacher eagerly.

Thinking privately that she would throttle Sirius for giving Kreacher such a loose order, Ursula directed Kreacher to go to Malfoy Manor and then Apparated there herself.

“Ursula dear, we weren’t expecting you until dinner!” said Narcissa, hurrying into the entrance hall to greet Ursula with a hug. “Did Hadrian leave so soon?”

“Our meeting was cut short, but I’ll see him again in a few days,” said Ursula. Narcissa looked relieved. “Actually, I came early with some… business.”

Narcissa understood. Her light eyes were unsearchable.

“I see,” she said. “Lucius is in his study. Oh, and tomorrow you and I should have a chat.”

Ursula nodded.

“Kreacher!” she called, and Kreacher appeared beside her, bowing to Narcissa. If Narcissa was shocked to see him, she didn’t show it.

“How?” began Narcissa, turning to Ursula.

“I’ll explain in a moment,” she replied. Kreacher followed the two women into Lucius’s study, where he was busy writing at his desk.

“Ah, Ursula, there you —” His eyes fell to Kreacher, who bowed a third time. Lucius’s eyes flicked back up to Ursula, and there was clear delight shining in them.

“Kreacher has come to tell us what he knows about Sirius Black and Harry Potter,” said Ursula. “Sirius apparently told him to get out, which he took to mean he was free to come to Corvus Manor. I felt he would be of use to you.”

“Good. Excellent,” said Lucius, sounding slightly breathless in his excitement. “Alright Kreacher, tell me about Sirius Black. What is his relationship to Harry Potter?”

All in all, Kreacher shared very little about the actual Order of the Phoenix, only shaking his head regretfully when asked, as he couldn’t disobey Sirius. For that, Ursula was grateful. He told Lucius all about Harry’s relationship with Sirius, and that Remus lived at Grimmauld Place as well. He mentioned that all the Weasleys had come to stay, plsu Hermione Granger, and painted a pretty clear picture of how devoted Harry was to his godfather, and vice versa. When all was said and done, Ursula told Kreacher he could help out at Corvus Manor for a day or two while Lucius made sure there was nothing else he needed to ask the elf.

“You’ve done very well by bringing him here,” said Lucius, clapping a hand on Ursula’s shoulder. “He will be most pleased with this development.”

With rising horror, Ursula realized that she knew exactly who ‘he’ was. Her hand jumped to her throat, fingering her pearl necklace.

“Yes, well,” she said, maintaining a smile, “we must all do our part.”

“Good girl,” said Lucius. She didn’t like how pleased he looked.

Ursula went upstairs to her old bedroom and flopped back on her bed. Sirius would have to be told what his house elf had gotten up to, and Professor Dumbledore would need to be informed… Ursula supposed, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that this was not the last she would hear of You-Know-Who and his followers over her break.

The next day, Narcissa brought Ursula into her sitting room, shutting the door and, to Ursula’s surprise, locking it behind them.

“I don’t want us to be disturbed,” she said. “I told Lucius you would be trying on your dress for the ball.” Narcissa gestured for Ursula to sit. “How are you getting on with Occlumency?”

“Well, I think,” said Ursula slowly. Her mind drifted to the garden she had been crafting, as per the vague instructions in the little red book Narcissa had given her. “I have no way to test that, however.”

“For now, believing is good enough,” said Narcissa.

“Do you remember when you said ‘if people expect very little from you, they can conceal quite a lot’?” said Ursula. The phrase had been rattling around inside her head for some time now.

“Yes, I believe so,” replied Narcissa. “Why?”

“Well… do you think it’s possible to stand out and blend in at the same time?” said Ursula. “For instance, I do well academically but in the end I’ll just be Hadrian’s wife.”

“To begin with, you will  _ never _ be  _ just _ Hadrian’s wife,” said Narcissa, with unexpected ferocity. “As to your question, yes, I think so. You may well flourish at school, but as long as you act like someone’s daughter, or someone’s wife, the Dark Lord will take no notice of you, as should be your aim.”

Ursula nodded.

“Presumably I should actually try on my dress?” she said, switching topics in a light voice.

“Yes, I had Weesy pick it up from Twilfitt & Tattings yesterday,” said Narcissa, pulling out a large box. “You have a dress for the wedding, right?”

“Yes, I ordered it weeks ago,” said Ursula. “It’ll actually be quite a strange wedding. I mean, we know the Greengrasses and the Selwyns, of course, but Hector is on my financial advisory board. It just feels odd to attend his wedding.”

“At least you have a personal connection,” said Narcissa. “Didn’t you meet Arabella when Anastasia invited you over for tea?”

“Yes; I’d forgotten about that,” said Ursula. “Which reminds me — Hadrian’s been asked to be an usher. Arabella and Hector only have one brother each, and Arabella’s brother Evander is already married. Hector’s best man is Gordon Slughorn, so they asked Hadrian, as Arabella’s nearest male cousin, if he would help.”

“Does that mean you won’t be able to attend with Hadrian?” said Narcissa, sounding slightly crestfallen.

“On the contrary,” said Ursula, her lips quirking into a smile, “it means I will be sitting with Hadrian no further back than the second row.”

Narcissa shrieked with delight.

“Oh my!” she said, fanning herself. “Oh my, that is simply marvelous! It’s your first official event together — the Quidditch World Cup doesn’t really count, as you weren’t courting then, and —” She stopped, cutting herself off with a gasp. “I’ll have to get out the family jewels! Everyone will see you together — now, you’re sure your dress is right?”

“Positive,” said Ursula. “And you don’t need to get out the family jewels.”

When Narcissa began to protest, she smiled wider.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I wore only jewelry Hadrian has given me?” she said.

“That is positively brilliant,” said Narcissa, beaming with pride and pleasure. “Now, try on your dress for the ball before someone hears us and comes to investigate.”

~~~

Kreacher remained at Corvus Manor for another two days before returning home to Grimmauld Place. Ursula was supremely uncomfortable to see that Lucius continued to have ‘friends’ over, friends who would murmur in his study while Ursula helped Narcissa entertain their wives in the drawing room. Ursula felt guilty for bringing Kreacher to her aunt and uncle, but she also knew that she had to make herself trustworthy if she was to avoid suspicion.

Still, she wrote to Professor Dumbledore, telling him what had transpired and everything Kreacher had said. It had been his advice, of course, for her to play along, so she hoped she was doing the right thing. At least Kreacher hadn’t known anything about the Order.

The following Friday, Ursula and the Malfoys attended the wedding of Hector Greengrass and Arabella Selwyn. It was three days before Christmas, and freezing outside, so the wedding was held in the ballroom at Greengrass Manor. Nearly everyone in the pureblood elite was in attendance, plus several familiar faces whom Ursula was surprised to see. Or rather, one face in particular.

“Hello Ursula darling,” said Hadrian, greeting her with a peck on the cheek. “You look marvelous.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula with a giggle. She was wearing a deep red dress and had a cream colored shawl draped around her shoulders for warmth. “You look — what is  _ she _ doing here?”

“Who?” said Hadrian, turning to follow Ursula’s gaze to a stout witch with a toad-like face in pink robes.

“That’s Dolores Umbridge,” said Ursula, under her breath. “The terrible professor, the one I told you about.” She seized Hadrian’s arm. “Come on, I want to introduce you.”

Hadrian groaned but plastered on a smile.

“Professor Umbridge,” said Ursula, her voice high and sweet. “How lovely to see you here.”

“Ah, Ms. Black, hello,” said Professor Umbridge with a broad smile. “Yes, I’m related to the Selwyn family. Who might this be?”

“Hadrian Rowle,” said Hadrian, nodding to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I believe you were the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister before you left to teach at Hogwarts, correct? It’s quite impressive.”

“Hadrian is Julius Burke’s assistant,” added Ursula.

“Yes, I was, and still am, actually, and thank you,” said Professor Umbridge, looking terribly pleased with herself. “I know Julius, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“It was wonderful to meet you,” said Hadrian. He steered Ursula away and said under his breath, “She’s quite as horrible as you said.”

Ursula giggled.

“Thank you for playing along,” she whispered in reply.

She and Hadrian sat down, all the way up front in the second row of chairs. All around her, Ursula could see several other young ladies staring at her, slightly dumbfounded, and knew a great deal of the chatter was about her and Hadrian.

The wedding was lovely, and soon Hector and Arabella were married. Hadrian and Ursula congratulated the happy couple, and soon the rows of chairs disappeared and a black-jacketed orchestra began to play.

“Shall we?” said Hadrian, offering Ursula his hand.

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed.

It wasn’t proper for her to dance with Hadrian more than twice, so in the time between their first and second dance, Ursula visited with a number of recent Hogwarts graduates, including Lewis Burke, who worked in the Wizengamot Administration Services.

“I’m hoping to become a legislative assistant in the next few months,” said Lewis. “Of course, my job mostly scheduling court dates and searching through archives, and the other day I had to take notes during a trial as if I was still a court scribe —” He laughed. “— but I quite enjoy it.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Ursula. “How’s Josephine? Happy with Reginald?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but she’s expecting,” said Lewis, lowering his voice. “Yes, I think they’re quite happy with one another. Plus, Reginald inherits the family manor, since Leopold prefers to work mostly in France.”

“You must give them my congratulations,” said Ursula. “I expect that means your mother is anxious for you to begin courting someone.”

“Of course,” said Lewis. “I still have time before she forces me into anything. I haven’t exactly paid many calls yet.”

“An eligible man like you?” teased Ursula.

The dance ended, and Lewis bowed to her.

“I’m looking forward to the ball,” he said.

“Mind if I have the next dance?” said Lachlan Pucey, stepping up. Ursula was surprised, as she had only met Lachlan a handful of times and only knew him through Adrian.

“Sure,” she said. The music started up again. Lachlan was a good dancer, but not a great one.

“I have something to ask you, so I’ll get right down to it,” said Lachlan in a business-like voice. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I have been courting Veronica Higgs for nearly two years now.”

“Yes. The two of you make a fine couple,” said Ursula.

“Thank you,” said Lachlan, a genuine grin spreading across his face. “I’m glad you think so. I wish to ask Veronica to marry me at the Christmas ball, if you’ll let me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” said Ursula. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

“Well, everyone knows the ball is in your and Hadrian Rowle’s honor,” said Lachlan. “I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Ursula. “Well, you have my full approval to propose.”

“Thank you,” said Lachlan.

When the dance ended, Ursula headed over to the table of refreshments to reunite with Hadrian.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” said Hadrian under his breath.

“What, don’t you like weddings?” said Ursula.

“No, I do, but most of them are far too long,” said Hadrian. “Arabella’s my cousin, but she’s not exactly a party person.”

Ursula giggled.

“I haven’t danced this much since William and Cordelia Shafiq’s wedding in August,” she said. “I’m out of practice.”

“You? Out of practice? Never,” said Hadrian.

“Speaking of dancing, how many times should we dance at the ball?” said Ursula.

“Twice, I’d expect, just like normal. Why?” said Hadrian.

“I think perhaps we should dance three times,” said Ursula. “I know, it’s usually improper, but we are courting, and everyone is expecting the ball to, well, be about us.”

“I’ll do whatever you say,” said Hadrian. “But we may have to revisit our arrangement soon.”

~~~

Ursula spent all of Christmas Eve helping Narcissa put the final touches on the ballroom. The house elves had done a marvelous job decorating — Ursula had loaned Dimsey and Helgie to the Malfoys for the occasion — and were now busy decorating the garden with lights. There were three grand Christmas trees in the house, one in the entrance hall, one in the corner of the ballroom, and a slightly smaller one in the drawing room.

Every inch of Malfoy Manor had been cleaned, every hallway and door decorated. Everything from the chandelier in the ballroom to the stone front steps had been cleaned to perfection. The ball may have been happening at Malfoy Manor, but it was undoubtedly in Ursula’s honor. That meant that everything had to be even more perfect than normal.

By dinnertime the guests began to arrive, walking up the long, straight drive. They entered through the grand front doors, decorated with wreaths and fake icicles, to be greeted by an enormous Christmas tree decorated in gold and silver baubles, lined with twinkling lights and strings of cranberries. They passed into the ballroom, to be greeted by a positively opulent display.

Fake snow sparkled down from the ceiling, past twinkling silver and crystal chandeliers. Enchanted icicles lined the walls, above boughs of holly and glittering stars. Silver trays of champagne and other drinks floated around the room of their own accord, and a black-jacketed orchestra waited to play.

Ursula stood in the entrance hall, greeting guests as they arrived and waiting for Hadrian. Her  [ dress  ](https://img.veaul.com/product/5a9637f954638c9b28c7acd6e1cde923/classy-royal-blue-evening-dresses-2020-a-line-princess-high-neck-sequins-lace-flower-long-sleeve-backless-floor-length-long-formal-dresses-800x800.jpg) was beautiful, midnight blue, with an embroidered silver skirt and blue tulle sleeves. She wore a delicate silver circlet, and her long hair had been pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, held in place by blue and silver hair clips that matched the sapphire earrings Hadrian had given her for her birthday. She looked very expensive, to say the least.

For a while she had little to do, as guests filtered into the ballroom. The dancing wouldn’t begin until the majority of the guests were there. Ursula smiled politely, talked about her Christmas plans, and played her part.

“Lilian!” said Ursula, winding quickly through the crowd when she saw her friend step awkwardly through the front door. “You’re here!”

“Of course I am! What, did you think I was going to miss this?” said Lilian. She looked very pretty in a blue-green  [ dress  ](https://d111vui60acwyt.cloudfront.net/product_photos/79482985/file_38f900bd5c_original.png) with a ring of flowers stitched around the waist. “You’re sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

“Positive. You’re my friend and I want you here,” said Ursula. “Your dress is lovely, by the way.”

“Thank you! My Gran got it for me,” said Lilian, beaming. “You look amazing, as usual.”

“Vanessa and Gemma are already here. They should be over on the right, near the windows,” said Ursula. “Adrian is here, but Cassius hasn’t arrived yet. You go on in, and I’ll be there soon.”

She watched Lilian enter the ballroom, and saw how the other purebloods lingering around the door barely gave her a second glance. On one hand, Ursula was upset, because Lilian didn’t deserve to be ignored, but on the other hand, she was relieved, because she didn’t think Lilian would enjoy being pulled into a conversation with someone she didn’t know.

“Ursula!” It was Narcissa, beckoning sharply to her over the heads of the other guests. Ursula hurried through the crowd towards the front doors and arrived, a pleasant, welcoming smile on her face, just as Hadrian and his family arrived.

“Mr. Rowle, Mrs. Rowle,” said Ursula, nodding to them. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“It is our pleasure, dear,” said Anastasia, positively beaming at her. “And of course…”

She gestured to Hadrian, who bowed to Ursula.

“Hello Hadrian,” said Ursula, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Ursula,” he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips to kiss. “You look exquisite.”

“Thank you very much,” said Ursula. Hadrian offered her his arm, and he took it.

“Would you do me the honor of accompanying me for the first dance?” he said.

“I would love to,” replied Ursula. Narcissa and Lucius entered the ballroom first, to great applause, followed by Ursula and Hadrian.

The orchestra began to play, and the dancers began to waltz. For this first dance, very few couples joined in. There was Ursula and Hadrian, of course, and Lucius and Narcissa, as the hosts. The newlyweds, Hector and Arabella Greengrass, joined in, as did a nervous-looking Lachlan Pucey and Veronica Higgs. The dance felt extraordinary, as Ursula glided smoothly across the floor of the ballroom, skirts flaring. When it ended, far too soon for Ursula’s liking, the men bowed to their partners and most left the dance floor. Only couples who were already married had free rein to dance together as much as they liked.

Ursula led Hadrian over to her friends, particularly Cassius, Lilian, and Gemma, as Vanessa had already been whisked away by Jacob Selwyn for the second dance.

“You know, I forgot they were dating,” confided Lilian to Ursula. “I mean, they rarely do couple-y things together. It feels like you and Hadrian spend more time together than they do.”

“I expect she’ll break up with him by Easter,” said Ursula. “If not sooner.”

“You looked like you were having fun dancing,” said Lilian.

“I was. I love it,” said Ursula. “I’m sure you’ll be dancing before long.”

“Yeah, I’ll dance with —” began Cassius, but Ursula stopped him, as Terence Higgs and Peregrine Derrick approached.

“Hey Ursula. This is a great ball,” said Terence. Ursula smiled.

“Yes, thank you both for coming,” she said.

“So, er, Lilian,” said Terence bashfully, turning to her. “Would you, uh, care to dance? With — with me?”

“Sure,” said Lilian, blushing furiously.

They could hear Terence say, “You look very pretty,” as he and Lilian walked away.

“Did anything ever happen between them?” said Gemma. “They did go to the Yule Ball together.”

“No, but I always suspected Terence wanted something to happen,” said Peregrine, grinning. “Ursula, how about a dance?”

“Alright then,” said Ursula, accepting his hand. Cassius asked Gemma to dance and followed Ursula out to the dance floor.

“So, is it true your cat had kittens, or whatever?” said Peregrine, surprising Ursula.

“Yes, er, Betelgeuse is the father,” she said. “How did you find out?”

“My sister said there was some commotion on the train,” said Peregrine, sounding amused. “Guinevere went on and on about the kittens. I was hoping you might have some left to give away, actually. I thought it’d be a nice Christmas present for her. Guin’s always wanted a cat.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” said Ursula. “Yes, I do still have some. I’ll give you one to take home tonight.”

“Thanks,” said Peregrine.

“How’re things, now that you’ve graduated?” said Ursula.

“Good,” said Peregrine. “Really good, actually. I’ve been recruited to be the reserve beater for the Falmouth Falcons.”

“Really? That’s marvelous! Congratulations,” said Ursula.

“Thanks. It’s a big deal, and I’m really pleased. My father’s so proud,” said Peregrine.

“As he should be,” said Ursula.

When the dance ended, Ursula steered Lilian over to the table full of Christmas treats.

“Having fun?” she asked innocently. Lilian nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, it was great to see Terence again,” she said, biting the head off of a gingerbread cookie.

“Yes, he’s very nice. And a fine dancer, as far as I’m aware,” said Ursula. Lilian saw her raised eyebrows and blushed deeper.

“It’s not like that,” she said.

“Oh, of course not,” said Ursula lightly. “What did you two talk about?”

“His job,” said Lilian. “He’s a junior editor for the  _ Daily Prophet _ now. Then he asked me what I wanted to be, so I told him that I want to work with Muggles, and he liked that. You know, it was really nice to talk to someone so supportive —”

“I’m sure it was,” said Ursula, highly amused. “Well, have fun. Cassius wants to dance with you, and Adrian’s around here somewhere. Oh — ask Terence if he wants a kitten. I’ve got one left.”

Leaving a smiling Lilian, Ursula headed back out into the action, accepting an invitation to dance from Thaddeus Carrow.

The ball went on splendidly, with hours of dancing and presents and even an odd round of caroling, led by a very drunk Charles Flint. Ursula danced with Hadrian a second time, and near the end of the ball she gathered her friends out in the garden to give them their gifts.

“I’m so glad all of you were able to make it,” she said. “You’ve all received your individual gifts, but I got a group present for you all.”

She handed them each an identically wrapped box.

“A… mirror?” said Adrian. He lifted a rectangular mirror out of the box with jewels set around the ornate frame. Each of her friends got a similar but not quite identical mirror, each with a rune inscription and different pattern of gemstones.

“It’s an enchanted mirror,” said Ursula. “It will connect to the other mirrors with the same rune inscription. Cassius, say ‘call Gemma.’”

“Call Gemma,” said Cassius, into his mirror. Gemma appeared in his mirror, and he in hers. “Wow!”

“This way, we can stay in touch easier,” said Ursula. “Especially once we graduate.”

“This is so cool!” said Vanessa.

“I declare it time for a group hug!” said Cassius. Before Ursula could protest, he wrapped her in a hug, and her friends followed, and then they were all laughing and hugging.

“Alright. Alright! That’s enough!” said Ursula, giggling as she extracted herself. “There’s only two dances left — and it’s time for Lachlan’s surprise.”

“What?” said Adrian. “What’s this got to do with Lachlan?”

“He approached me about assisting him with something,” said Ursula. “You’ll see why in a moment.”

She reentered the ballroom, signalling with a raised goblet to Lachlan that it was time. He nodded and murmured something to Veronica, taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor, stopping nearly in the exact middle just as the second to last dance was ending.

Heads were turning now, as other people realized what Lachlan was doing. A great murmur filled the ballroom as Lachlan knelt, pulling a small box from his pocket.

“He’s —” began Adrian.

“— proposing!” finished Vanessa with a sigh.

They couldn’t hear the question, but they could certainly see the answer. Veronica nodded, beaming, and Lachlan slipped a ring on her finger, then stood and kissed her. The ballroom erupted in applause.

Ursula seized a glass of champagne from a passing tray and marched forward, the crowd parting to let her through, Hadrian following.

“To the happy couple!” she said. “Merry Christmas!”

“To the happy couple!” echoed the guests as one.

Ursula waved to the orchestra, and the conductor struck up a celebratory tune.

“Come on,” she said to Hadrian. “It’s the last dance.”

They joined the dance, observing the many other couples that did so as well. Lachlan and Veronica, of course, who couldn’t stop smiling and were rather giggly. Ursula saw Cassius reluctantly partner Rowena Avery, and likewise Adrian with Elizabeth Travers. Vanessa danced with Lewis Burke, and Gemma danced with Peregrine Derrick. Lilian, to Ursula’s surprise, once again partnered Terence Higgs.

“Does she know that three times is improper if they’re not courting?” murmured Hadrian.

“No,” said Ursula. “And I’m not going to tell her. She’s having too much fun.”

“But Terence certainly knows,” said Hadrian.

“Yes,” agreed Ursula. “So it is quite possible he hopes something will come of it. I would be thrilled if something did. They are good together.”

When the last dance ended, the guests began to leave. Lucius and Narcissa stood by the front doors to say goodbye, with a reluctant Draco alongside them. Ursula helped as well, accepting praise for the ball and well wishes from the departing guests.

“Thanks so much for inviting me,” said Lilian. “I had a blast, really.”

“You’re welcome,” said Ursula. “I’m so glad you came. Are you Apparating home?”

Lilian nodded.

“Happy Christmas!” she said, waving as she left the manor.

“I guarantee the Malfoys have won the secret contest to see who can throw the best ball,” said Cassius, coming up beside Ursula. “I know everyone pretends it’s not a competition, but it really is.”

“Thank you for coming,” said Ursula. “I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.”

“About that,” said Cassius. “I, er, well…” He lowered his voice, glancing around nervously. “I’m going to come out to my father. I’m thinking around New Year’s.”

“Cass, that’s brilliant!” said Ursula in a whisper. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yes, well… if — if it goes badly, can I come to stay with you?” asked Cassius, his voice cracking slightly.

“Of course,” said Ursula. “Of course you can. Good luck, Cassius darling.”

She hugged him. Cassius’s mother called for him and Ursula bid him goodbye. She headed over to Hadrian, who was waiting in the entrance hall with his family.

“Mother says you should come over for tea sometime after the new year,” said Hadrian.

“Tea with your mother? I don’t know if I have the strength,” murmured Ursula. Hadrian chuckled.

“Well, if I don’t see you before your term starts, good luck at school,” he said. “I’ll try to visit you in Hogsmeade when I can.”

“Write to me,” said Ursula.

“Of course I will,” said Hadrian.

Ursula stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

“What was that for?” said Hadrian, smiling.

“Our arrangement,” said Ursula. “Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” said Hadrian, with something melancholy in his voice. “Merry Christmas, Ursula.”

“Merry Christmas, Hadrian,” Ursula replied.

Hadrian left, following his parents out the door. When all the guests had gone, Weesy shut the front doors.

“That all went very well, I thought,” said Narcissa, as she led the way upstairs.

“Yes, it did,” said Ursula. She turned down the hallway that led to her room. “Well, goodnight.”

Tomorrow was Christmas, or possibly today, given how late it was. Ursula put on her pajamas and went straight to bed, where Betelgeuse was fast asleep. She dreamt of laughter and dancing until the sun rose in the morning.


	79. Acceptance

Hello everyone. I thought it was important to put a special author's note before this chapter because of the heavy and potentially triggering material it covers. There will be homophobia and attempted suic*de in this chapter. If this triggers you or is in any way detrimental to your wellbeing, please do not read this chapter. I want y'all to take care of yourselves, and especially your mental health.

~~~

Soon enough, it was time to return to Hogwarts. Cassius had shown up at Ursula’s house two days after New Year’s, and had been staying with her ever since. He had come out to his father and it had gone… less than well. Cassius hadn’t been disowned, but his father wouldn’t even speak to him. After a day of complete silence Cassius had left, and no one outside of his friends knew.

His father’s cold response was taking a toll on Cassius. He was losing sleep and had retreated from his usual jolly personality to a more grim shell of himself. Ursula was glad that he was staying with her, because she could make sure he was eating and sleeping and generally taking care of himself.

“Cassius!” called Ursula. “Are you ready to go?”

Cassius came down the stairs, carrying Poppy’s cage and his trunk.

“I’m here,” he said. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Ursula. “Go ahead and Apparate to the station, and I’ll meet you there.”

When Ursula arrived at King’s Cross a few minutes later, she could tell that Cassius had looked around hopefully to see if his father was there, without any luck.

“The next move is his,” she reminded him. “Come on, let’s find the others.”

The train ride back to Hogwarts seemed to cheer Cassius up a bit, and the Slytherins spent most of that evening in the most unexciting of ways: finishing their neglected homework from over the break in the library while the sky grew dark outside of the mullioned windows. Other students, mostly fifth and seventh years, sat at lamp-lit tables nearby, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly. The only other sound was the slight squeaking of one of Madam Pince’s shoes as the librarian prowled the aisles menacingly, breathing down the necks of those touching her precious books.

When at last they had finished, the seventh years trudged back to their common room, feeling like their impending NEWTs, despite being months away, were practically on top of them. Ursula got no emotional relief, however, as the very next morning she received a terrible piece of news.

At breakfast, Ursula unrolled her copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ , scanning the front page for the most interesting articles.

Her eyes landed at once on the snarling picture of Antonin Dolohov, alongside nine other faces, and then flicked back to the headline.

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

**MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS “RALLYING POINT”**

**FOR OLD DEATH EATERS**

All of the goblets within six feet of Ursula shattered, dousing a number of students in whatever they had been attempting to drink.

Splutters of complaints and protests arose among the affected students.

“Get over it,” snapped Ursula. With a wave of her wand the goblets reformed, but it was Lilian, seated next to her, who dried everyone off.

Ursula picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she stood up and strode out of the Great Hall, abandoning breakfast, for she had just lost her appetite. Lilian hurried after her.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Fine,” said Ursula. Lilian snorted.

“I’ve known you too long to take  _ ‘Fine’  _ as an answer. Are you okay?”

Ursula handed Lilian the newspaper. She smoothed it out, showing ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards’ faces and the tenth, a witch’s. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

“Bloody hell,” murmured Lilian.

“Look at the first picture,” said Ursula softly.

_ Antonin Dolohov _ , read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at them,  _ convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett and suspected of the savage murder of Cassiopeia Black. _

“He’s your Boggart,” said Lilian, understanding. “Oh, Ursula, I’m so sorry.”

“I just can’t believe he’s escaped,” she said, more to herself than Lilian. “And look at the other escapees —”

She pointed to one in particular, the only witch on the page.

_ Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom. _

She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though he had seen it sleek, thick, and shining. She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. She retained vestiges of great good looks, but a combination of Azkaban and madness had taken most of her beauty. Still, she bore a passing resemblance to Ursula.

“This is like when Sirius Black escaped all over again,” said Ursula. “Except this time it is so, so much worse.”

“The article is about him, look,” said Lilian.

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that

there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cor-

nelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten

high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of

yesterday evening, and that he has already informed

the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature

of these individuals.

“We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the

same position we were two and a half years ago when

the murderer Sirius Black escaped,” said Fudge last

night. “Nor do we think the two breakouts are unre-

lated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside

help, and we must remember that Black, as the first

person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally

placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think

it likely that these individuals, who include Black’s

cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black

as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to

round up the criminals and beg the magical commu-

nity to remain alert and cautious. On no account

should any of these individuals be approached.”

“Do you think they’ll search your house again?” said Lilian, looking up at Ursula.

“I… probably. I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Ursula numbly. She couldn’t get the image of Dolohov’s face out of her head. “I’m going to go write to Hadrian.”

“Alright,” said Lilian sympathetically. “I’ll see you at lunch then. Are you sure you don’t want any breakfast?”

Ursula shook her head.

“No, I can’t eat anything,” she said.

Lilian nodded and went back into the Great Hall. Ursula went up to the Owlery, reading the rest of the paper as she went.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF

MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

St. Mungo’s Hospital promised a full inquiry last

night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick

Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by

a potted-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable

to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a

workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.

Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr.

Bode’s ward at the time of the incident, has been sus-

pended on full pay and was unavailable for comment

yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in

a statement, “St. Mungo’s deeply regrets the death of

Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior

to this tragic accident.

We have strict guidelines on the decorations per-

mitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout,

busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the

dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode’s bedside table. As

his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout en-

couraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself,

unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but

a cutting of Devil’s Snare, which, when touched by the

convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly.

St. Mungo’s is as yet unable to account for the

presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch

or wizard with information to come forward.”

Ursula recalled that Broderick Bode was an employee in the Department of Mysteries. She had a sinking, horrible feeling that his death had more to do with his job than the man himself. She felt guilty for not foreseeing the breakout, but Lucius had mentioned nothing, not even the slightest thing, to suggest what was soon to happen.

Ursula sat in the Owlery and penned a long letter to Hadrian. Even when Agatha had long left, she did not leave the Owlery until second period, when it was time for History of Magic, desperate to avoid the stares for as long as possible.

Her day only got worse, when she discovered that Hagrid had been put on probation. Her three classmates kept shooting her worried glances, and even Rue didn’t comment on Hagrid’s situation.

“You know what’s strange?” said Fred, as he and Ursula cared for a batch of crups — a dog that resembled a Jack Russell terrier, save for its forked tail.

“What?” she said absentmindedly.

“We’re both named after people killed by Dolohov,” he sent. The name sent a shiver down Ursula’s spine. “My middle name is Gideon, after my uncle, and yours is Cassiopeia for your mum, right? Anyway, it’s a bit of a strange coincidence.”

“If you could call it a coincidence,” said Ursula. “But yes, it is odd that we have that in common. Odd, and depressing.”

There was only one topic of conversation in the corridors now: the ten escaped Death Eaters, whose story had finally filtered through the school from those few people who read the newspapers. Rumors were flying that some of the convicts had been spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were supposed to be hiding out in the Shrieking Shack and that they were going to break into Hogwarts, just as Sirius Black had done.

Those who came from wizarding families had grown up hearing the names of these Death Eaters spoken with almost as much fear as You-Know-Who’s; the crimes they had committed during the days of You-Know-Who’s reign of terror were legendary. There were relatives of their victims among the Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors.

Worse, there were plenty of relatives of the escapees at Hogwarts as well, all of them Slytherins, who faced even more prejudice than usual. Elizabeth and Alexander Travers for instance, had an uncle, who was imprisoned for murdering the entire McKinnon family, who had escaped. Casper, Amos, and Viola Rowle had a similar problem with their uncle Thorfinn. The three Avery siblings suffered just the same.

Draco was unbothered by the hatred for his aunt and uncle, but Ursula was the recipient of an odd mix of pity and anger. Her aunt and uncle, the infamous Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, were some of the cruelest, most vicious Death Eaters ever. Ursula’s high cheekbones and haughty expression, the things every member of the Black family shared, certainly didn’t help. On the other hand, the story of her mother’s death had permeated much of the wizarding community, and with Cassiopeia’s name in print it was impossible to ignore the reality of what had happened to her.

An interesting turn of events resulting from the breakout was that more and more students began to believe, in their search for a reasonable explanation, the one that Harry and Professor Dumbledore had been expounding since last year. The  _ Daily Prophet _ ’s explanation was less than satisfactory, and in their confusion and fear, the doubters turned at last to the truth.

It was not only the students’ mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.

“Clearly they can’t talk freely anymore,” said Ursula. “Have y’all seen the new educational decree?”

“What number are we on now?” said Adrian.

“Twenty-six,” supplied Gemma.

Indeed, the morning after news of the Azkaban breakout reached Hogwarts, new signs had appeared on the house notice boards:

— By order of —

**The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**

_ Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any infor- _

_ mation that is not strictly related to the subjects they are _

_ paid to teach. _

_ The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six. _

_ Signed: _

Dolores Jane Umbridge

_ High Inquisitor _

This latest decree had been the subject of a great number of jokes among the students. On Wednesday, Lee Jordan had pointed out to Professor Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule she was not allowed to tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.

“Exploding Snap’s got nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That’s not information relating to your subject!”

When Ursula next saw Lee, the back of his hand was bleeding rather badly. She had Blossom give him a bottle of essence of murtlap, which would soothe the wound.

The Azkaban breakout, far from causing Professor Umbridge to be abashed at the catastrophe that had occured right under Fudge’s nose, seemed to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control. She seemed determined at the very least to achieve a sacking before long, and the only question was whether it would be Professor Trelawney or Hagrid who went first.

Hagrid wasn’t showing them anything particularly dangerous, which was rather disappointing for Ursula, but he also seemed to have lost his nerve. He was oddly distracted and jumpy in lessons, losing the thread of what he was saying while talking to the class, answering questions wrongly and glancing anxiously at Professor Umbridge whenever she visited, which was often.

Meanwhile, it only took two days for Ursula’s prediction to come true. Professor McGonagall pulled her aside after lunch on Wednesday, when Ursula had a free period while her friends were in Arithmancy.

“Have a biscuit, Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, holding out her tartan biscuit tin. They were in Professor Dumbledore’s office, waiting for the Ministry men to arrive.

Ursula took one of the biscuits, nibbling on it awkwardly. After a few minutes, the door opened, and in swept Professor Dumbledore, followed by a grizzled man wearing a deep scowl that Ursula recognized as Rufus Scrimgeour.

“Hello Ms. Black,” said Professor Dumbledore kindly. “It has been brought to my attention that, after the recent Azkaban breakout, the Ministry is inclined to search your residence. Naturally, your permission must be granted for this to go ahead.”

“We’re looking for a number of dangerous criminals, Ms. Black,” said Scrimgeour gravely. “Among them, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, who we believe may attempt to hide at your family’s home. The murderer Sirius Black may reconnect with them there. It is also possible that Rabastann Lestrange or Antonin Dolohov may stay there as well, given their connection to your family.”

“Antonin Dolohov would not dare set foot in Corvus Manor,” said Ursula coolly, nearly shaking with anger at having to say his name. “Have you  _ any  _ evidence that the Lestranges or any other Death Eater are hiding out in my home?”

“None at this time,” said Scrimgeour, his jaw clenched. “That is why we cannot search the manor without permission. That said, we can raid the manor if any evidence were to present itself.”

Ursula narrowed her eyes.

“Which Aurors would accompany you?” she said.

“Gawain Roberts, John Dawlish, and Kinglsey Shacklebolt, who is in charge of the hunt for Sirius Black,” said Scrimgeour.

“Yes, I remember him and Mr. Roberts from the last time you searched my house,” said Ursula. “When would the search take place?”

“As soon as I leave here,” said Scrimgeour. It seemed like he was fighting to keep calm.

“Very well,” said Ursula. “I have two house elves, Dimsey and Helgie. They will show you around. Do not break anything.”

“I encourage you to get in touch with the Ministry if one of the escaped Death Eaters ever tries to contact you,” said Scrimgeour.

“Why,” said Ursula slowly, a challenge underlying her words, “would they try to contact me?”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Finally, Scrimgeour bid them all goodbye, pivoted, and stalked out of the room. There was still silence once he had gone, until at last it was broken by Professor McGonagall, who said, “Have another biscuit.”

~~~

Ursula’s only other class that day was double Care of Magical Creatures, but she was unusually stony faced throughout it. She felt incredibly exhausted, drained emotionally, the way she had when Cedric died.

She couldn’t focus on any of her homework when she tried to study before dinner, and she nearly threw the Transfiguration book Professor McGonagall had given her in frustration. She had been stuck for weeks on one problem, and it gave her a headache to puzzle through. When they returned from dinner, she ignored Gemma’s advice to start studying for her NEWTs, slammed down her Alchemy book when she couldn’t take any more, and left the common room, muttering that she was going for a walk.

Since it was Wednesday, Ursula had to patrol the castle after curfew. She wandered the dark corridors of the castle alone that night, even though she usually patrolled with Cassius. They both needed some time alone.

One moment, Ursula was walking alone through the dark, silent halls of Hogwarts, and the next, she was slumped on an empty stairwell, crying as silently as she could in the shadows.

Ursula wasn’t sure why, exactly, she was crying, but she knew she needed the release and the relief that came with her tears. She was crying because of Cassius, because of Dolohov, because of the breakout, and because of who knew what else. It didn’t matter, really, what she was crying about. It mattered that no one saw her so vulnerable, slumped against a cold stone wall with one arm wrapped around herself, quietly into her hand.

~~~

Rue Hayes often walked through the halls of Hogwarts alone. She liked how the castle felt even more mystical at night. Walking through the halls, she could just be with her thoughts, thinking through what had happened in the day or imagining future scenarios. At night the castle was still and quiet and peaceful, just the way she liked it. Tonight however, her thoughts were interrupted.

She wasn’t really looking where she was going, just letting her feet wander like her thoughts did. The only sound she heard was her own soft steps. This made it all the more surprising when she quite literally stumbled into the last person she expected to see.

“Oh — sorry,” said Rue, stepping back. She couldn’t see who she had just tripped over, so she pulled out her wand, but the unknown person beat her to it.

Rue saw a slender hand holding a long, thin wand, then lifted her eyes to a pale face framed by inky black hair.

Ursula Black stood, nearly a head taller than Rue, the light from her wand pulsating in the silence that followed.

Rue was aghast, her eyes wide and her mind racing. She had just stumbled upon Ursula Black, Fred’s damn crush, the bloody queen of Hogwarts, sitting in an empty stairwell in the dark. She saw Ursula’s red-rimmed eyes and could swear she saw a tear track on her face. Crying. Ursula had been crying.

“You shouldn’t be here,” said Ursula, after a long moment of silence. Rue had to admit, as much as she didn’t want to, that Ursula’s strict composure was impressive. “It’s after curfew.”

“I like to walk at night,” said Rue stiffly. What she wanted to say was  _ You shouldn’t be here either _ . Ursula stared at her through cold, emotionless grey eyes.

“I see.” Her voice was just as cold and emotionless as her eyes. “Well, you should go back to your common room now.”

Rue had been expecting a detention, or house points, or something. She  _ was  _ breaking the rules by being out this late. But she understood. Ursula meant  _ I’ll let you go if you don’t tell anyone _ .

“Alright, I guess,” said Rue.  _ I won’t tell _ .

She walked off into the dark corridors once more, feeling unnerved yet oddly… sympathetic.

~~~

Ursula’s week didn’t get any better when Thursday dawned, frosty and grey. If anything, it got much, much worse.

“Cass,” she said, looking up as a hawkish eagle owl swooped in. “Cassius. Cassius, look.”

“Oh no,” said Cassius, his face falling as he saw the red envelope clutched in the bird’s beak. “Oh no.”

“Take it out of the Great Hall,” said Lilian urgently.

But Cassius was paralyzed. Ursula wasn’t sure he was even breathing as the owl dropped the Howler in front of him, narrowly missing his cereal, and flew off without a pause.

Cassius reached out with jerky motions to grab the letter, but by the time his hands clasped the red envelope, it had already opened. A roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling, as Augustus Warrington’s voice erupted from the Howler.

“I AM DISGRACED, DISGUSTING, AND ASHAMED OF EVERYTHING YOU HAVE REVEALED TO ME. I AM EMBARRASSED TO HAVE YOU AS MY HEIR. YOUR HOMOSEXUALITY IS A DISHONOR TO THE FAMILY NAME —”

Cassius’s face burned with shame. He looked as if he’d rather die than be here. The entire hall was silent, staring at him with judging eyes and open mouths.

“— THEREFORE, CASSIUS AUGUSTUS WARRINGTON, YOU ARE HEREBY DISOWNED. I —”

Ursula shot the envelope with a spell, destroying it before it could say more.

“Cassius,” she whispered. Cassius’s face was deep red, and he wouldn’t look at any of them. The silence in the hall was deafening.

Cassius stood, nearly tripping over his seat, his hands clenched into fists. The squeal of the bench against the floor was harsh. Every face in the hall was turned to him. Ursula saw him take a deep breath, close his eyes for the moment, and then he walked slowly out of the hall.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind him with a tremendous creaking that the Great Hall erupted with murmurs that mounted in volume. At once, Ursula and her friends ran out after Cassius, finding him in an alcove barely off the hall, with his palms pressed against his eyes as he tried not to cry.

“I’m so sorry,” said Adrian, kneeling in front of his best friend. Cassius shook his head, shaking with quiet sobs. His friends crowded around him, all murmuring words of comfort that they knew were futile, ato prove to Cassius that they were here for him, that they supported him, that they loved him.

Over the next two weeks, Ursula took away more House points and gave more detentions than all previous instances combined. She probably would’ve been punished for abusing her powers if Professor McGonagall didn’t side with her and hand out her own detentions. Ursula wouldn’t stand for a single instance of making Cassius feel worse, and to her outrage, there were plenty of them.

Many of the pureblood Slytherins were now pointedly ignoring Cassius, with the exception of his friends and family, now that he had been disowned. His brother and sisters made it clear that they didn’t agree with their father, but that didn’t mean much to Cassius. His self esteem was tied to his father’s approval, and he had been raised his whole life as his father’s heir, so now he felt lost and abandoned.

Other Hogwarts students were similarly intolerant, and thought it was funny to make jokes at Cassius’s expense. Ursula had zero tolerance for this, and handed out punishments accordingly. She nearly throttled Jacob during Charms.

Even the teachers — well, some of them, made a point of speaking to Cassius. Professor McGonagall was overseeing group detentions with not an ounce of sympathy for those serving them. Professor Sinistra let them stargaze for fun, and Professor Tilcott held him back after class to have a chat. Cassius was Professor Flitwick’s favorite student, and he never missed a chance to give him points for even the most mundane things.

There were some students who made a point of supporting Cassius. Elizabeth Barrett, of course, had been out for some time. Ursula overruled another prefect who tried to give her detention for beating up a homophobic sixth year. Many of the seventh years, who knew Cassius well, did their best to show their support, and a number of the younger students who didn’t really know what was going on were nice to him as well.

Not even the progressing Dumbledore’s Army meetings could change Ursula’s mood, not while Cassius was so unhappy. She had, with Harry’s permission, begun showing the DA some of the spells Death Eaters favored so they could work to defend against them.

Ursula, Adrian, and the other girls did everything they could to help Cassius, battling his depression with anything they could think of. They made sure he was never alone at mealtimes or at night, helped him take notes and do his homework, or sometimes did it for him, and made sure he was eating and taking care of himself. Adrian even switched dorms with Alexander Yorke so Cassius could be nearer a friend. They wished there was more they could do.

At the end of January, two weeks to the day he had been disowned, Cassius took a fateful step. The night before, he and Ursula had been out on patrol, and Cassius had said he was sorry, though Ursula had told him he had nothing to be sorry for. She hadn’t realized at the time that he was apologizing to her.

The next morning, another gloomy Thursday, Cassius mentioned offhandedly that he forgot his Charms textbook and was going to grab it before class. Charms was Cassius’s favorite class, and when he didn’t show up Ursula knew at once that something was wrong.

She left the Charms class just seconds before the bell rang, leaving her bag and not caring what she missed. She tried not to panic as she headed down the stairs towards the dungeons, breaking into a run in the corridor that led down to the common room.

“Cass! Cassius!” Ursula sprinted down the corridor, practically shouted the password at the bare wall, and lunged through the stone passageway into the sparsely filled common room. “Adrian!”

He jumped up from his seat as she called him.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Cassius?”

“I haven’t seen him since breakfast —” Adrian’s face fell at once. “He can’t possibly have —”

“Come on!”

Ursula led the way as they both ran into the boys’ dorm, barging in and running for the bathroom.

“The door’s locked!” said Adrian. “Cassius open up!”

“Cass!” cried Ursula. They pushed at the door but it didn’t budge. “Out of my way!”

Ursula whipped out her wand, pointed it at the door, and shouted, “Bombarda!”

The door burst open and they rushed inside, to find Cassius lying in the tub, blood staining the water.

“Merlin,” muttered Adrian in shock. Ursula ran to Cassius’s side.

“He’s alive,” she said, checking his pulse. He was unconscious, but not dead yet. “He’s still alive.”

“Thank Merlin.”

“I’m not thanking anyone until he’s safe and healed!” She knelt by his side. “Give me your tie.”

“What?”

“I need something to wrap around his wrists to stop the bleeding now give me your tie!” Ursula pulled her own tie off and together they wrapped them around Cassius’s wrists. “He has to go to Madam Pomfrey.”

“But how will we get him there?”

“I’ll carry him myself if I have to!”

“There must be a way! Everyone’s in class, so the hallways are emptier, but there are other people in the common room and we’re sure to run into someone!”

“I’ll clear the common room,” said Ursula. “You… dry him off and get him out of the tub.”

Wiping her hands on her skirt, Ursula composed herself and walked out of the dormitory to speak to the dozen or so students lingering in the common room.

“I need everyone to please return to your dormitories,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, her tone making it clear that there was no room for argument. “Immediately.”

“Why?” said one fourth year, his friends grumbling and clearing their stuff.

“Are you questioning me?” said Ursula, mustering every ounce of authoritativeness she had.

“No,” mumbled the fourth year awkwardly.

“Good. Now go,” said Ursula. She waited until the common room was completely clear, and all of the doors to the dormitories had been shut, before hurrying back to Adrian, who was supporting Cassius as best he could.

“I’ll carry him,” said Adrian, though the feat would be very difficult.

“No, no, I have a better idea,” said Ursula. She pointed her wand at Cassius’s limp form. “ _ Mobilicorpus _ .”

Adrian went out into the common room first, checking that everyone had obeyed Ursula, then gestured for her to follow. She and Adrian hurried through the hallways with Cassius floating alongside them as if he were laying in an invisible bed. Mercifully, they encountered no one until they were almost there.

“Oh my!” said Blossom when they rounded a corner and nearly knocked her over. It was quite a shock for sure, with both Adrian and Ursula frantic and their classmate suspended unconscious between them.

“Tell no one you’ve seen this, I’ll explain later,” said Ursula. Blossom nodded and they ran off.

They made it to the Hospital Wing, which was, thankfully, also empty, without running into anyone else. Madam Pomfrey ran out of her office to help them settle Cassius on a bed, her face anxious. She waved her wand and half a dozen bottles plus a roll of bandages came flying out of her office.

“You two wait over there,” she said kindly to Adrian and Ursula, who both looked terrified. “He’ll be alright.”

She drew curtains around his bed. Adrian and Ursula sat beside one another in nearby chairs, Ursula’s head leaning on Adrian’s shoulder.

“He’ll be alright,” repeated Adrian softly, more to himself than to Ursula. “He’ll be alright.”

It didn’t take long for Madam Pomfrey to emerge. She told them that he was healed and sleeping, and said they could sit with him for as long as they liked. They nodded and thanked her.

Cassius looked peaceful, his chest gently rising and falling as he slept. Ursula and Adrian sat down on opposite sides of his bed, neither of them speaking. Ursula held Cassius’s hand.

When Cassius came to, Ursula and Adrian were still by his side.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” said Ursula fiercely, tears forming in her eyes. “We love you so much, Cassius.”

“Yeah,” said Adrian, his voice choked with emotion. “We’re just happy that you’re here. We love you, man.”

“I love you guys too,” whispered Cassius. “How… how long have you been here?”

“They haven’t left your side,” said Madam Pomfrey, bustling over to him now that he was awake. She handed him a cup filled with a pale pink liquid and a bar of chocolate. “Drink this, eat that. You’ll feel better.”

Cassius nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, to Ursula and Adrian. “Thank you.”

They stayed with him until lunchtime, when Lilian, Gemma, and Vanessa came and sat with him, and then returned in the afternoon. Lilian stayed as well, and the three of them talked and joked with Cassius until the sun went down.

At lunch, Ursula had stepped away just long enough to write a letter to Cassius’s father. She knew it would probably come to nothing, but she had to try to change his mind.

“Alright,” said Madam Pomfrey, when the sky had long since darkened. “It’s nearly curfew. You can come back and see him in the morning.”

Reluctantly, Ursula, Adrian, and Lilian left, taking turns hugging Cassius goodbye.

“You two go ahead,” said Ursula, as they made their way through the shadowy castle. “I want a moment alone.”

Adrian and Lilian nodded and continued down the stairs, while Ursula went to a moonlit alcove where she could sit peacefully for a moment. She wouldn’t even let herself consider what could’ve happened if… no. It didn’t happen. And for that she was forever thankful.

Ursula hadn’t even realized she was crying until she wiped her eyes and her hand came away wet. It seemed like she was making a habit out of crying alone in dark stairwells. This time, however, she was crying out of relief. Relief and joy. She couldn’t care less about Dolohov now.

All of a sudden, someone sat down next to her. Ursula turned away from the window to see who it was this time who wouldn’t let her cry alone.

“Hey,” said Fred softly, his face pale in the dim moonlight.

“Hey,” said Ursula in reply.

Fred looked like there were a million things he wanted to say, but instead he shifted an inch or two closer and said, “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” said Ursula, turning back to face the window. “I’d like that.”

They didn’t say anything else, but after a moment, Fred put his arm around Ursula’s shoulder and they stared at the stars together.

~~~

The next morning, Ursula, Adrian, and Lilian went straight to see Cassius before breakfast, but when they arrived, they found the spot next to his bed already occupied.

“Oh my,” said Lilian.

“That’s —” began Adrian.

“His father,” finished Ursula breathlessly.

Augustus Warrington sat at his son’s bedside, stroking Cassius’s hair, looking kinder and more fatherly than Ursula had ever seen him.

“What is he doing here?” said Lilian angrily.

“I wrote to him,” admitted Ursula. “Cassius loves him, and he made a mistake by disowning him.”

“By the looks of it, he knows it,” said Adrian.

They could hear what Augustus was saying in the silence of the Hospital Wing.

“My son,” he said, his voice shaking. “My boy. I love you so much. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Really?” Cassius asked, tears running down his face.

“Yes, really. I regret everything I said, everything I did. I’m so, so sorry,” said Augustus. By now, he was crying too. “Not accepting you was the biggest mistake of my life. Please come home.”

“I’d like that,” whispered Cassius. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, my son,” said Augustus. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you since the moment you were born. I know I don’t say it often enough, but I’ll work on that. I want you to know that you mean so much to me, and I’m proud to have you as my son. Proud, do you hear me?”

They hugged. Ursula and Lilian were both crying. Even Adrian was teary eyed.

“I love you, Cassius,” said his father.


	80. The Article

With so much to worry about and so much to do — startling amounts of homework that frequently kept the seven years working until well past midnight, especially Ursula, who had ten NEWT classes to worry about, secret D.A. meetings, her duties as Head Girl, and Quidditch — January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast. Before Ursula knew it, February had arrived, bringing with it wetter and warmer weather and the prospect of the second Hogsmeade visit of the year.

“Only three days after Valentine’s Day,” said Vanessa, sighing in delight. “Jacob and I are going to Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“I thought you were planning to break up with him,” said Lilian, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Just a day prior, Vanessa had been talking about how she was planning to break up with Jacob.

“Well yes, but Valentine’s Day is so  _ romantic _ ,” said Vanessa, twirling a finger in her hair. “I mean, there’s no rush to break up with him.”

“You just want a date for Valentine’s Day first,” said Cassius, rolling his eyes. His spirits had greatly improved since his father had accepted him, and he was standing tall again.

“Is that so bad?” said Vanessa. She turned to Ursula. “Do you and Hadrian have any plans?”

“Yes, we’re also going to Madam Puddifoot’s,” said Ursula. “Hadrian is taking the whole day off so we can see each other.”

“See, that is the kind of romantic gesture I want,” said Vanessa.

“Be back before dinner, please,” said Adrian. “Gryffindor’s got the pitch booked all day, but I want to practice before dinner for our match against Ravenclaw next week. We’ve got to win if we want a chance at the cup.”

“Got it,” said Cassius. “Lils, I’ll go to Hogsmeade with you if you want.”

“I’ll go too,” said Adrian.

“Great,” said Lilian. “Gemma, how about you?”

“I can’t,” said Gemma, blushing. “I, er, have a date.”

“You do?” squealed Lilian and Vanessa in unison. “With who?”

“Edward,” said Gemma. Edward, their fellow Slytheirn seventh year, was extremely studious and diligent, so it made sense that he and Gemma would like each other.

Ursula had a long history of interesting Valentine’s Days. There had been the singing dwarves in fourth year, then a date with Lucian in fifth year, then pretending she and Hadrian were in love in sixth year. Valentine’s Day just brought too much pressure, especially on the older students, to have a date.

This year, Valentine’s Day was a Wednesday, and turned out to be one of the sunnier days they had had for a while. Ursula received her usual batch of valentines at breakfast, including several bouquets that she had to return to her dorm, one of which was a bouquet of chocolate oranges from Hadrian. Hadrian also sent her a large red heart filled with truffles.

“How interesting,” said Ursula, unwrapping the heart full of chocolates. “We seem to have received the same gift.”

“Different chocolates, though,” said Cassius, popping a truffle from his own red heart into his mouth. They were not the only ones who had received a gift by mail. Lilian, to her surprise, received a sizeable selection of chocolates and a bouquet of roses from an unfamiliar barn owl.

“Are those from Terence?” teased Ursula.

“Yes,” said Lilian, surprised. “Yes, they are.”

The students were all a bit giddier than usual, and some of their teachers tailored their lessons to match. For instance, Professor Babbling had her Ancient Runes class translate a love poem that had been inscribed on someone’s tomb.

As the only teacher dressed in Valentine’s Day colors — pink and only pink, in this case — it was ironic that Professor Umbridge had no room for romance in her lesson. Her room was even decorated with cheesy paper hearts, but she glared around at them as they recited passages from the textbook. Nearly a third of the class left double Defense Against the Dark Arts less than half way in, with the help of Fred and George’s Skiving Snackboxes.

In double Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid had a wonderful lesson planned. He had a batch of Occamy eggs for them to care for — they didn’t ask where he’d gotten them — and a Demiguise. Ursula took on the task of coaxing the Demiguise out into the open, which was quite difficult, as he turned invisible when he wished and was distrustful of humans.

By the end of the lesson, however, Ursula was carrying the Demiguise, whom she had nicknamed Doug, as if he were a small child.

“Fifteen points ter Slytherin,” said Hagrid with a grin. “Alrigh’, you lot, yeh can put the eggs bag in this basket now. I reckon they’ll hatch in a week or two.”

“Are those Occamy eggshells really pure silver?” asked Fred, as they walked back up to the castle.

“Yes,” said Ursula. “They’re worth quite a lot.” Fred nodded and they fell into silence for a few more steps. “Your Snackboxes are certainly effective. I’ll be surprised if anyone shows up to Defense Against the Dark Arts in the next few weeks.”

“They’re very popular,” agreed Fred. “The money we’ve got from them has helped us to develop other things, like Shield Hats.”

“That sounds useful,” said Ursula.

“Yeah, we put a Shield Charm on them, so it’ll cause jinxes to just bounce off,” said Fred. He rummaged in his pockets for a moment, then pulled out a snackbox. “Here. I know a Head Girl like you doesn’t want to skip class, but you never know.”

“Thanks,” said Ursula, pocketing the box of Fainting Fancies. She reached into her bag and pulled out a box wrapped in brown paper. “I, er, got you some chocolate from Honeydukes.”

“Funny that we both got each other gifts,” said Fred.

“Yes, we seem to have a lot of coincidences,” said Ursula.

They went their separate ways, but Ursula found herself blushing as she headed down to the dungeons.

Saturday arrived soon after. Ursula, dressed in a new pink suit, decided to walk down to Hogsmeade with Blossom, who would be meeting Roger Davies for a date. They joined the queue of people being signed out by Filch and talked animatedly about their boyfriends.

“I’m so glad to be having this date with Roger, you know?” said Blossom. “Who doesn’t love a bit of romance on Valentine’s Day? Well, I guess that was three days ago, but you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” said Ursula. “You’re going to Madam Puddifoot’s, right? If so we can walk together.”

“I am!” said Blossom, beaming. “I’ve never been when it’s all decorated.”

It was a fresh, breezy sort of day outside, although grey clouds hung in the distance. Both Blossom and Ursula walked face, Blossom because she had a bounce in her step and Ursula because it was part of her power stance, so they reached Hogsmeade in no time and turned onto High Street.

As they passed Dervish and Banges, Ursula noticed the large poster that had been erected in the window. A few Hogsmeaders were looking at it. They moved aside when Blossom and Ursula approached and Ursula found himself staring once more at the ten pictures of the escaped Death Eaters. The poster (“By Order of the Ministry of Magic”) offered a thousand-Galleon reward to any witch or wizard with information relating to the recapture of any of the convicts pictured.

“Remember when Sirius Black escaped and there were Dementors everywhere?” said Blossom with a shiver.

“Yeah. It’s strange that there aren’t any now, although I can’t say that I miss them…” said Ursula. Blossom squealed and she tore her eyes away from Dolohov’s face.

“Looks like there’s someone waiting for you!” said Blossom, giggling and pointing up the street.

Hadrian was waiting for Ursula, leaned casually against a storefront, in a deep maroon suit, carrying a large bouquet of red, white, and pink roses.

“I’ll see you later,” said Blossom, nudging Ursula forward.

Ursula walked over to Hadrian, who grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said, handing her the bouquet.

“Don’t you think you’ve given me enough gifts today?” teased Ursula.

“Of course not!” said Hadrian. “I’ll give you the last gift when we’re in Madam Puddifoot’s, so we can make everyone else jealous. It’s matching earrings and rings.”

“How convenient,” said Ursula. “I got you cufflinks and a tie.”

“Perhaps I should’ve gotten  _ you _ cufflinks,” said Hadrian. “You look great in that suit.”

“Yes, we both look good in suits, don’t we?” agreed Ursula. She looped her arm through his. “Come on; I think it might rain, and we need to get a good seat.”

Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop was even more crowded than usual; the frills and bows that seemed to be everywhere reminded Ursula unpleasantly of Professor Umbridge’s office. Golden cherubs hung over each of the cramped, lace covered tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

Ursula and Hadrian sat down at a table near the steamy window, smiling and holding hands and playing the part of the happy couple.

“What can I get you, m’dears?” said Madam Puddifoot, a very stout woman with a shiny black bun, squeezing between their table and the next with great difficulty.

“A pot of tea and two slices of cheesecake, please,” said Hadrian, winking at Ursula.

In the time it took for their tea and cake to arrive, Blossom arrived with Roger Davies, waved at Ursula, and slid into a table at the other end of the window. Vanessa and Jacob also arrived, though they sat at the other end of the shop.

“So, how’s work going?” asked Ursula, brushing confetti off her slice of cheesecake. They talked in quiet voices, saying normal things while batting their eyelashes and smiling pleasantly at each other to keep up the appearance.

“Great,” said Hadrian, adding sugar to his tea. “I love working for Mr. Burke, but I  _ hate _ being a Hit Wizard. Particularly now that all those Death Eaters have escaped.”

Ursula nodded in understanding.

“The Ministry searched my house again,” she confided.

“They didn’t!” said Hadrian with a gasp.

“Scrimgeour himself had to come and ask for my permission first,” said Ursula. Hadrian gave a low whistle.

“They interviewed me at work about my uncle, Thorfinn Rowle,” he said. “I told the truth, that I didn’t know anything about him and hadn’t seen him, but I do worry that he’s going to contact my father.”

“It’s times like these that I’m glad my dad and Tony work in America,” said Ursula.

They fell silent as Harry Potter and Cho Chang arrived, both looking awkward, and squeezed into the last remaining table, between Ursula’s table and Blossom’s. Roger and Blossom began kissing over the sugar bowl, which clearly only made Harry more uncomfortable.

“Poor guy,” said Hadrian, fighting to suppress a laugh. “He looks terrified.”

“Yes, well, no one said dating would be easy,” said Ursula. She and Hadrian were still holding hands and making eyes at each other, and their illusion didn’t help Harry and Cho.

“Is now a good time to give you your gift?” murmured Hadrian, bringing Ursula’s hand up to his lips to kiss it.

“What, and torture the poor boy more?” said Ursula with a giggle. “Oh, go on then.”

She handed him the box containing the tie and the cufflinks, which he loudly announced were perfect and asked for her help putting on. Then Hadrian opened the velvety box that contained dainty pearl earrings and two gold rings.

“They’re beautiful,” said Ursula, slipping the rings onto different fingers of her right hand and admiring them. Next door, Harry rather looked as if someone had punched him in the gut as he saw what Hadrian had given Ursula.

Hadrian leaned across the table to press a slow kiss to Ursula’s cheek, clearly enjoying making a show of their date when they had an audience. Ursula, for her part, giggled and blushed, smiling demurely. They were making quite a meal of acting like a couple when they were interrupted by Cho’s shrill voice.

“I thought,” she said, tears running down her cheeks. “I thought you’d u-u-understand! I need to talk about it! Surely you n-need to talk about it t-too! I mean, you saw it happen, d-didn’t you?”

Harry looked extremely uncomfortable now. Blossom and Roger were both staring at them, and Ursula and Hadrian had to force themselves not to stare.

“Well — I have talked about it,” Harry said in a whisper, “to Ron and Hermione, but —”

“Oh, you’ll talk to Hermione Granger!” she said shrilly, her face now shining with tears, and several more kissing couples broke apart to stare. “But you won’t talk to me! P-Perhaps it would be best if we just… just p-paid and you went and met up with Hermione G-Granger, like you obviously want to!”

“Cho?” said Harry weakly.

“Go on, leave!” she said, now crying into the napkin. “I don’t know why you asked me out in the first place if you’re going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me… How many are you meeting after Hermione?”

“It’s not like that!” said Harry. After a moment, he laughed, though Ursula could not see why.

Cho sprang to her feet. The whole tearoom was quiet, and everybody was watching them now.

“I’ll see you around, Harry,” she said dramatically, and hiccuping slightly she dashed to the door, wrenched it open, and hurried off into the pouring rain.

“Cho!” Harry called after her, but the door had already swung shut behind her with a tuneful tinkle.

There was total silence within the tea shop. Every eye was upon Harry. He threw a Galleon down onto the table, shook pink confetti out of his eyes, and followed Cho out of the door.

Ursula and Hadrian both covered their mouths to stop themselves from giggling.

Shaking her head, Ursula said, “He just has no tact! You don’t tell the girl you’re on a date with that you  _ want _ to go meet up with another girl!” Despite herself, she smiled. “That was awful.”

Hadrian was almost crying with silent laughter, and wiped his eyes as he composed himself.

“Was it mean of us to laugh?” he said. “Oh, I don’t care.”

“That was the first proper laugh I’ve had in ages,” agreed Ursula.

“How is Cassius?” asked Hadrian, his smile evaporating. “I wrote to him.”

“He’s doing a lot better,” said Ursula. It was true. Cassius was eating again, and sleeping better, and was much more cheerful. Ursula, on the other hand, had a persistent nightmare about him, but she would never tell him that. “I noticed you sent him something for Valentine’s Day.”

Hadrian blushed.

“Yes, well…” he said, avoiding giving a real answer. Ursula grinned.

“I’ll leave you to work that out, shall I?” she teased.

“What about you?” challenged Hadrian. “Has anyone caught your eye?”

“You know very well I’ll only tell you if something comes of it,” said Ursula.

“Ah! So there  _ is _ someone,” crowed Hadrian. Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Shall we go somewhere else?” she said. “I have some shopping to do.”

“Sure,” said Hadrian. “It’s raining pretty hard, though.”

“Luckily for you, I brought an umbrella,” said Ursula, pulling the silver snake-handled umbrella from her purse.

They crowded together and hurried down High Street, splashing through the rain-sloshed street until they reached Tomes & Scrolls, hurrying inside as a bell jingled to signal their arrival.

“Ah, here we are,” said Ursula. She found a copy of  _ Magical Hieroglyphs and Lopographs _ and went up to the register to pay.

“I’m surprised that’s not a Transfiguration book,” teased Hadrian. “How’s your special assignment going?”

Ursula groaned as they left the bookstore.

“I’m stuck,” she admitted, as they continued down the street towards Honeydukes. “I’ve been stuck for weeks now, on this one problem. If I can just figure it out, the rest of the pieces will fall into place and I’ll be able to finish.”

“And McGonagall won’t help you?” said Hadrian, taking the wet umbrella from Ursula and shaking it outside as they entered Honeydukes, which was warm, crowded, and sweet-smelling. Ursula shook her head.

“I haven’t asked her,” she said, “and I’m not going to. I’m supposed to do this by myself, and I’m not going to fail.”

“Well, good luck,” said Hadrian. “I believe in you.” He picked up a box off the shelf. “Does Cassius prefer chocolate frogs or sugar quills?”

“Chocolate frogs,” said Ursula, picking up a carton of enormous chocolate bon bons filled with salted caramel. Hadrian nodded and grabbed a package of them. “Anyway, I just keep making mistakes. I could figure it out if I — wait a minute.”

“What is it?” said Hadrian, looking up from where he was examining a pack of ice mice.

“Mistakes,” repeated Ursula slowly, realization dawning on her. “That’s it…”

“Care to explain?” said Hadrian.

“No,” chirped Ursula. “If my theory is correct, I’ll let you know.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Hadrian replied. They joined the queue of students waiting to pay. “Is there anywhere else you want to go?”

“Yes, Scrivenshaft’s,” said Ursula. “I snapped my swan feather quill the other day, and I’d like another one.”

Once they had paid, they dashed through the pelting rain again, getting the cuffs of their pants wet, and entered the far less crowded Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop.

“I’m not looking forward to Quidditch in this weather,” said Ursula. “We’ve got a game next week, and we’ll have no chance at the Quidditch Cup if we don’t win.”

“Perhaps I’ll come watch,” said Hadrian. “I’ve only seen you play once, but you were quite good.”

“Yes, well, we’ll have to play great if we want to beat Hufflepuff,” said Ursula, handing over the money for her quill. She thanked the clerk and they left, standing underneath the store’s awning as rain poured around them.

“I suppose I should get back,” said Hadrian, checking his watch. “It’s been great fun, seeing you.”

“You too,” said Ursula. “Er — tell me if you find out anything about your uncle. Start charming your letters, just in case.”

“I will,” said Hadrian. “Tell me if you learn anything, alright?”

Ursula nodded and they hugged before Hadrian Disapparated. Ursula walked alone back to Hogwarts, enjoying the smell and sound of the rain. She rounded the Quidditch Pitch, where she could see a group of soggy, mud-splattered players flying about. She was not looking forward to practice this evening.

“Hey, Black!”

Ursula looked over her shoulder as Fred and George ran over to her under one tattered umbrella, rain splattering their matching sweaters.

“Hey!” she said, having to raise her voice over the drumming rain. “What’re you two up to?”

“Just watching Gryffindor practice!” said Fred.

“Are they any good?” asked Ursula. The Weasley twins both shrugged.

“They’re… alright,” said George.

“Good luck against Hufflepuff,” said Fred.

“Are you sure you want to wish us luck?” said Ursula. “We can’t win the Quidditch Cup if we lose.”

“You’re too good to lose to Hufflepuff!” said Fred.

“Will you root for us against Ravenclaw?” said George.

“Of course not!” said Ursula. “It’s hardly worth going to the match, to be honest, if you’re not going to play.” The rain began to slacken off a little and Ursula peered out from under her umbrella. “I should get inside before it starts up again. Nice talking to you!”

She hurried off, her muddy sneakers squelching as she reached the castle. Ursula dried her umbrella and shoved it back into her deceptively large purse, heading down the stairs to the dungeons. Her friends were all back, save for Gemma, and were seated around the crackling fire.

“She’s back!” declared Cassius as soon as she entered the common room. “Well? Vanessa said Hadrian gave you a ring. Is it true?”

“Two rings and a pair of pearl earrings,” said Ursula, holding out her right hand to show them the rings. Vanessa squealed. “Don’t tell me you thought he gave me an engagement ring.”

“You never know!” said Vanessa. “Jacob gave me a lovely silver necklace. Did you get Hadrian anything?”

“What, besides the pleasure that is my company?” said Ursula. Lilian laughed. “Of course; I got him a tie and some cufflinks, nothing special.”

She sat down on one of the couches, passing Cassius the chocolate frogs with a wink.

“We didn’t have an umbrella, so Cassius, Adrian, and I had to run back,” said Lilian. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there. I do not envy you guys having to go out to Quidditch practice.”

“Speaking of which,” said Adrian, checking his watch, “I’d say it’s time.”

Both Ursula and Cassius groaned.

“I’ll go change,” said Ursula, getting up. No way was she going to ruin her cute pink suit.

It was raining heavily when they sloshed down to the Quidditch Pitch, and the entire team was soaked before practice had even begun. They stood in the changing room for a while listening to Adrian’s plans and hoping the rain would slacken off, with no luck.

“We’re going to start with some laps!” shouted Adrian, over the pouring rain.

“Is he joking? He had better be joking,” said Ursula to Cassius. Adrian blew his whistle, and the team jogged off around the pitch. Even Draco realized it wouldn’t be worth complaining about.

“Race you!” said Cassius, stomping away through the mud.

“Oh, you’re on!” said Ursula, taking off after him. She sprinted twice around the pitch — the highest number of times Adrian could convince the team to do — beating Cassius in the final stretch. “Beat you!”

Cassius stuck out his tongue at her. They waited in the rain, both splattered with mud, for the rest of the team to finish. Adrian finally had them mount their brooms and kick off from the soggy ground. It was ridiculous, trying to play in the rain. Ursula got hit by more Bludgers than she’d ever had in an actual game. Draco had no chance at spotting the Snitch, and twice Montague, the keeper, crashed into one of the goalposts he was supposed to be defending. Still, the chasers managed to score decently, and only when they were playing in the rain  _ and _ in the dark did Adrian blow his whistle to signal the end of practice.

Ursula changed into dry clothes, but the walk back to the castle left them all as muddy as ever. She kicked the mud off her boots at the front doors and trudged into the Great Hall for dinner, where Lilian was waiting.

“How was it?” she said, as Ursula filled her plate with warm food.

“Not too bad, actually,” said Adrian. He was the only member of the team still in a good mood, despite that fact that his hair was practically caked with mud. “We’ll practice all this week, hopefully in better weather, and then we’ll win on Saturday.”

“Hold on,  _ every _ day this week?” said Ursula, pausing with a dinner roll halfway to her mouth. “You do know that we have to study for our NEWTs, right? Not to mention Cassius and I have prefect patrol, and Astronomy? I guess I’ll cancel the League of Laurels meeting.”

“Damn, I was looking forward to that,” said Lilian.

“Blame Adrian. I’ll reschedule it to next week,” said Ursula. “I want to win, but I’m not about to neglect all other responsibilities to do it.”

“Tough,” said Adrian. “Some of us were sensible and didn’t take ten NEWTs.”

Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Some of us  _ study _ for our NEWTs,” she retorted.

“I’ll make you a deal,” said Adrian. “You come to practice every night this week, and I’ll start studying for my NEWTs. Deal?”

“Deal,” said Ursula. “Now pass the trifle.”

Their teachers had only been increasing the ridiculous amount of homework the seventh years had to complete, telling them every day that they needed to be prepared for their NEWTs. Some teachers, like Professor Tilcott, had set aside the entire month of May to focus on review.

“If anyone needs further help, please come to my office at any time!” he said, over the bubbling of cauldrons and through the thick steam that rose throughout the room during their latest experiment. “We will have our first mock practical exam at the end of March.”

Other teachers set them similar tests to prepare them. Once every two weeks, Professor Snape simulated the practical portion of the exam by testing them on a potion of his choosing. Professor Babbling quizzed students at random of the meanings of different runes, keeping a running tally of correct answers. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall both set their classes written exams to test their memory, and every teacher graded them at NEWT level.

Ursula had a growing stack of papers marked with black E’s and O’s, which she would use to study with as she got closer to the exams. Though the exams weren’t until June and it was still February, a few students were already freaking out, and a few more were loudly announcing how much time they spent studying every night.

No one studied harder than Gemma, though Ursula came close. She spent hours every night reviewing and revising, even after all of her essays and other homework were done. Funnily enough, the only other person with as many classes to study for as Ursula was Rue. She and Ursula had become friendly acquaintances, but absolutely nothing more.

Meanwhile, Ursula had finally managed a breakthrough in the book she was working to fill out for Professor McGonagall. It took a couple hours, but finally, around two in the morning, she had finished it.

Ursula smiled, set down her quill, and stretched, reviewing her work with satisfaction. Her eyes burned from the dim light and exhaustion. She had a stack of parchment twice as thick as the book itself full of her notes, which were themselves marked with hundreds of corrections.

The book covered everything from human Transfiguration to conjuration — the most difficult branches of Transfiguration. Now that she had finished it, she had derived a sort of formula that all other Transfiguration spells came from.

The next morning — or rather, a few hours later — Ursula went to Professor McGonagall’s office before Alchemy.

“Professor?” said Ursula, knocking on the door.

“Come in, come in,” said Professor McGonagall, setting down the papers she was grading.

“I finished it,” said Ursula, holding out the little black book. Professor McGonagall took it, her eyes alight with pride. “And I, er, found a mistake.”

“A mistake?” repeated Professor McGonagall, looking at her over the top of her square spectacles. “Do tell.”

“Yes, I found a mistake near the end of the book, about a third away from the end,” said Ursula, sitting down in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk. “I had been stuck on it for some time before I figured it out. You see —” She pulled a piece of parchment containing her somewhat illegible notes from when she had figured it out and handed it to Professor McGonagall. “— the second of the five principle exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration states that you can’t conjure food from thin air. However, you  _ can _ conjure animals which could, theoretically, be eaten.”

“Continue,” prompted Professor McGonagall, examining Ursula’s notes.

“That said, you can’t eat conjured animals, for two reasons,” said Ursula. “The first is that conjured things vanish after a while, and the second is that conjured things, well, living things, that is, are fundamentally different from naturally occurring living things. You can’t kill a conjured bird because it was never alive. The first principle exception to Gamp’s Law states that you cannot conjure living things, and that brings me to the mistake I found.”

Ursula drew herself up so she was sitting a little straighter in her chair.

“I believe that Conjuration is a form of Untransfiguration,” she said.

Professor McGonagall didn’t say anything for a moment. Her face was inscrutable as she turned a page to read Ursula’s writing, before she said, “Go on.”

“I checked out a few books from the library that all said that Vanishment was Untransfiguration, but I believe it is the other way around,” said Ursula. “When you vanish something, it doesn’t just become nothing; it goes into everything. To reverse vanishment, you have to conjure the object again, while conjuring something from nothing will be reversed on its own. The natural state of objects and beings is to exist, to  _ be _ something, so conjuration is technically returning objects to their natural state, which is the definition of Untransfiguration. Once I figured that out, the rest of the book was relatively easy to finish.”

Slowly, Professor McGonagall smiled, chuckling to herself.

“I spent six weeks searching for a way around that problem,” she said, partly to herself. “I finally wrote a formula for calculating the anomaly, but it was never a permanent solution, and it hindered my ability to finish the rest of the book.”

Professor McGonagall adjusted her spectacles, eyeing Ursula proudly.

“I am very proud of you, Ms. Black,” she said. “I think fifty points to Slytherin are in order, for your hard work, dedication, and discovery. If you would please compile your findings, I will contact the editor of  _ Transfiguration Today _ .”

“Really?” said Ursula. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is,” said Professor McGonagall. “You have made a profound discovery here. It will need to be verified, of course, but witches and wizards for years have been trying to prove connections between Gamp’s Law. I am happy to excuse you from the current Transfiguration assignment if you need time to compile your notes.”

“That won’t be necessary, Professor,” said Ursula, grinning. “I’ve already finished it.”

“Very well. You should think very seriously about continuing to study Transfiguration after you leave school, even if you do not wish to pursue it as a career,” said Professor McGonagall. “I would be more than happy to recommend you to several different courses of study that you could explore even while working another job.”

“I’ll think about it, Professor, thank you,” said Ursula. She rose and took back her notes.

“Oh, and Ms. Black?”

Ursula stopped at the door and turned back around. Professor McGonagall watched her over the top of her spectacles, a smile twisting her lips as she held out a quill.

“You need to sign the book before you go.”

Grinning, Ursula accepted the quill, flipping back to the first page of the journal and signing her name at the bottom of the short list. Then she left Professor McGonagall’s office and headed to Alchemy with an extra bounce in her step.

~~~

The following Saturday, after an exhausting week of practice, Slytherin defeated Ravenclaw 280-90. The weather had cleared up, so it was a lovely sunny day, and Ursula, Adrian, and Cassius played their very best, their beaters, Marcellus Warrington and Edmund Urquhart, were terrific, and Draco managed to beat Cho to the Snitch. Adrian was so thrilled with their performance that he barely admonished Graham Montague for letting in nine goals.

One week later, Gryffindor played Hufflepuff, in a match so horrible it was almost shameful. The Gryffindor team was awful without Fred, George, and Harry. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie managed to score eight times, which was decent, but the keeper, Ron Weasley, let in no less than twenty-four goals.

The beaters, Sloper and Kirke, were worse than Crabbe and Goyle. At one point, Sloper missed the Bludger but hit Angelina in the mouth, and when Rolf Scamander went zooming towards Kirke carrying the Quaffle, Kirke shrieked and fell backwards off his broom. The one saving grace of the match was the seeker, Ginny Weasley, who was an extremely skilled player. Ursula could hardly believe she hadn’t been on the team before; if she was a Slytherin, she would’ve been on the team years ago. The miracle was that Gryffindor only lost by ten points: Ginny managed to snatch the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker Steven Summerby’s nose, so that the final score was two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty.

The very best thing Ursula could say about the match was that it was short; the Gryffindor spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. On the other hand, the Slytherins only got twenty-two minutes of gleeful gloating. The Gryffindors had trudged off the pitch to another booming chorus of ‘Weasley Is Our King’ sung with great gusto by many of the Slytherins, who were now favorites to win the Quidditch Cup.

“Now that Gryffindor’s lost one, and Ravenclaw beat Hufflepuff, we just need to beat Ravenclaw to win the Quidditch Cup,” said Adrian for the fourth time.

“Unless Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw, and then it’ll come down to points,” repeated Cassius.

“Did you see how they played out there? They’ll never beat Ravenclaw,” replied Adrian with a laugh.

February melted into March, and as the frost receded, the flowers bloomed, so that one day Hogwarts awoke to a warm sun and a colorful front lawn. Ursula and her friends entered the Great Hall on Monday morning just as the post owls arrived. No less than four copies of the  _ Daily Prophet _ arrived between the six friends, as they all, save for Adrian and Vanessa, wanted to read it at once. Vanessa shared with Gemma, and Adrian likewise with Cassius, as they looked for the day’s most important news. Nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many reported sightings, had still not been caught.

This morning, however, Lilian was interested in another newspaper.

“Aha!” she said, catching a long, cylindrical package.

“What’s that?” asked Adrian.

“My copy of  _ The Quibbler _ ,” said Lilian eagerly. The rest of them looked at her, eyebrows raised all around. “Don’t judge me; I only get it for the articles about Muggles.”

Ursula returned to her  _ Daily Prophet _ , scanning for anything that was of notice, but her eyes had barely landed on an article about gobin protests when Lilian gasped.

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed. She turned  _ The Quibbler _ around. The cover was one large picture of Harry Potter, with large red letters stamped across it that said:

**HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:**

**THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED**

**AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN**

“Well? What does it say?” demanded Cassius.

Lilian began to read, and other Slytherins up and down the table gathered around to listen in stunned silence. The article was a recount of what had happened during the third task, from Cedric’s murder to You-Know-Who’s resurrection.

“‘Just who were the Death Eaters there that night?’” read Lilian. “‘Well, Harry Potter knows that, too. The first Death Eater he named was Peter Pettigrew, which makes He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named not the only wizard seemingly back from the dead. Among the other Dark wizards present were Vincent Crabbe Sr. and Gregory Goyle Sr., ever the duo, the Ministry executioner, Archibald Nott, Walden Macnair, and Caledon Avery. Most notably, two of the Death Eaters named have been, up until now, pillars of the wizarding community, which makes the revelation of their actions all the more gripping: Lucius Malfoy and Montgomery Rowle.”

Many of the heads at the Slytherin table swiveled to face Ursula, while others stared at the other relations of the named Death Eaters. The few subscribers to  _ The Quibbler _ who were dotted around the Great Hall were showing the article to their friends, who showed it to their friends, and so on. At the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter himself seemed to be getting a great deal of mail, while up at the teachers’ table, Professor Umbridge was surveying the anxious chatter with an extremely displeased look settling onto her face.

“Well,” said Ursula in an undertone to her friends, as the other students wandered away, talking in hushed voices amongst themselves. “We all suspected You-Know-Who was back.”

“Yes, well…” said Vanessa with a shiver. “At least before we could still doubt.”


	81. The Sneak

By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.

— By order of —

**The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**

_ Any student found in possession of the magazine  _ The Quibbler _ will be expelled. _

_ The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Seven. _

_ Signed: _

Dolores Jane Umbridge

_ High Inquisitor _

Ursula sighed and shook her head when she passed one of the signs outside of Charms.

“If there was one way to ensure  _ everyone _ reads the article, it’s a bunch of signs telling us not to,” she said.

Ursula was quite right. By the end of that day, though she had not seen so much as a corner of  _ The Quibbler _ anywhere in the school after Lilian disguised hers as a Muggle Studies pamphlet, the whole place seemed to be quoting the interview at each other; Ursula heard them whispering about it as they queued up outside classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons, while every occupant of the cubicles in the girls’ toilets had been talking about it.

Meanwhile Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. She was looking for copies of  _ The Quibbler _ , but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry’s interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.

The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor McGonagall had more satisfaction in her eyes as she glared at Professor Umbridge, and Professor Flitwick was even more excited than usual.

Ursula was called to a meeting with Professor Umbridge that very evening, where she was asked to use the prefects to enforce the Educational Decrees. She relayed Professor Umbridge’s instructions dutifully, but in a much more relaxed manner than Professor Umbridge would’ve liked, because to be honest, she was in favor of as many students reading the article as possible, so they could get a better understanding of what was going on.

She continued to host weekly League of Laurels meetings, where she taught her fellow Slytherins some of the darkest spells she knew. The meetings also turned into a safe place for discussions of the escaped and accused Death Eaters, where some of the students felt comfortable to share tidbits of information that they wouldn’t dare advertise to the school. If any of it was particularly serious, Ursula relayed it to Professor Dumbledore in secret.

Ursula had also been writing to Sirius more and more frequently. Professor Umbridge wouldn’t dare have anyone intercept her mail, so it was quite safe for her to do so. Agatha was kept exceptionally busy with her repeated trips to Grimmauld Place and to Hadrian, who had made a startling discovery about the mysterious meetings his father was holding.

Every letter she received from Lucius and Narcissa was normal, almost painfully so. She didn’t find out anything from their letters, other than that the garden at Malfoy Manor was blossoming beautifully this year and that Narcissa had gone to tea with Hadrian’s mother.

The Slytherins who had family members who had been named as Death Eaters were either upset or angry, but they couldn’t confront Harry about it because they couldn’t admit that they had read the article. That said, they still faced a considerable amount of opposition from the rest of the school. Ursula even had to step in a few times when she saw younger Slytherins whose uncles or cousins or even parents had been named being bullied by older students.

“Ten points from Hufflepuff, Smith,” said Ursula in a bored voice, coming up behind the sixth year.

Zacharias turned around, scowling. Ursula smiled at the two girls he had been harassing.

“Eleanor, Sybilla, run along now,” she said. Eleanor Nott and Sybilla Avery obeyed without a second thought, scurrying away hastily down the corridor. Ursula turned back to Zacharias. “Surely there are better uses of your time than bullying second years.”

He mumbled something under his breath and Ursula raised an eyebrow.

“A detention should do the trick, I’d say,” she said. She swept away as he tried feebly to protest, scowling darker and glaring after her.

When people were not discussing the escaped Death Eaters in the corridors, they were laughing at Gryffindor’s abysmal performance in their match against Hufflepuff; the Slytherins were singing ‘Weasley Is Our King’ so loudly and frequently that by sundown Filch had banned it from the corridors out of sheer irritation.

The one bit of good news Ursula had was about her findings in Transfiguration. She had written all of her notes on Conjuration and Untransfiguration into a concise essay, which she had passed on to Professor McGonagall. Three days later, and Hamish Hickory, the editor of  _ Transfiguration Today _ , came to Hogwarts, along with a tall, thin, elderly witch by the name of Elspeth Vandram; they both shook Ursula’s hand with great enthusiasm.

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Black, truly,” said Mr. Hickory, with an eager look on his face. “As you know, we are here to discuss your findings. Madam Vandram here heads the review board for the magazine and — well, I’ll let her say it.”

“Ms. Black, we have reviewed your findings, and have come to the conclusion that you are correct,” said Madam Vandram. “Not only does reclassifying Conjuration solve your own research, but preliminary surveys suggest it solves for a great number of issues in spellcasting. We will, of course, have to submit your research to a qualified board of Transfigurers, but we are quite confident that you have made an important discovery.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula, smiling from ear to ear.

“Your article has caused great excitement in our office, and we wish to publish it at once,” said Mr. Hickory. “We pay authors a standard rate of twenty Galleons, thirteen Sickles, and thirteen Knuts for a centerfold article, and we wish to pay you the same.”

“That is very generous,” said Ursula.

“Not at all, not at all,” said Mr. Hickory. “I daresay your contribution will prove to be far more valuable. We do have a bit of paperwork for you to sign, standard stuff, just so we have a record of your previous publications if you ever choose to submit another article to us, which we hope you do. You can sign it now, but we would also prefer to send you a copy for accountability. Do you have any legal representation or would you prefer we send it to a relative?”

“Please send a copy to Edwin Graham at the Gringotts Law Office,” said Ursula. She accepted a quill from Madam Vandram and signed at the bottom of the page that she was the author and that she gave consent for the article to be published.

“Thank you, Ms. Black,” said Mr. Hickory. “We will send you an advance copy of the article and it will be published on Saturday. If we could just get a picture — lovely. I hope we meet again.”

“As do I,” said Ursula. She shook both their hands again.

The article arrived Saturday morning, as promised. Ursula caught the tightly rolled magazine before it landed on Cassius’s head and unfurled it with a snap, revealing her face on the cover.

“What is this?” said Cassius with a gasp, snatching the magazine from her grasp. “Who is this on the cover?”

Lilian leaned over the table and grabbed the magazine.

“You’re telling me you didn’t hear about Ursula’s  _ revolutionary _ discovery?” she said, in the same proud-but-teasing tone.

“That’s very sweet, now give it back,” said Ursula. Adrian took the magazine from Lilian and tossed it back to Ursula. She winked at him. “Thanks Adrian.”

“No problem,” said Adrian, tossing a grape into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“If I buy a copy, will you autograph it for me?” said Cassius. Ursula rolled her eyes and swatted him.

Cassius did, in fact, buy a copy of  _ Transfiguration Today _ and did, in fact, make Ursula sign it. Strangely, she received an outpouring of letters from the subscribers to the magazine, all adult witches and wizards who were obsessed with Transfiguration, and who had begun sending Ursula letters detailing what they thought of her discovery. They seemed in unanimous agreement with her assertion, but now she found herself receiving a barrage of letters from people asking for her advice on their research. Ursula had absolutely no time to answer these, what with her insane amount of homework and other responsibilities, so she took to scribbling replies between classes, or whenever she needed a break, which earned her a great deal of teasing from Lilian.

“You take a break from your work to review someone else’s work?” said Lilian dubiously, as Ursula held a quill between her teeth as she thumbed through her collection of Transfiguration books.

“Mmhm.” Ursula wrote down her answer and blew on the parchment to make the ink dry faster.

Meanwhile, the aftermath of Harry’s article wasn’t getting any easier, as everyone was still tense for news, but after the heir of Slytherin and the Sirius Black rumors, Ursula had practice dealing with antagonistic classmates. She also knew how to shut down gossip, and kept her friends and fellow friendly Slytherins from being subject to unkind and untrue rumors about their involvement with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No matter the crimes of the Death Eaters in question, none of the students at Hogwarts deserved to be blamed for them, and no one understood that better than Ursula.

As March practically flew by, Ursula had more than one meeting a week with an increasingly irate Professor Umbridge, who had still failed to find even a single copy of  _ The Quibbler _ . During her most recent meeting, right before dinner, Professor Umbridge seemed almost frantic.

“It’s time to make changes,” she said, scooping up an armful of papers. “I have allowed this — this  _ madness _ , to go on for too long.”

Ursula found out what she meant that very evening. Ursula and her friends were just finishing up dessert when someone screamed outside of the Great Hall.

Cassius’s spoon missed his mouth completely, and ice cream dripped back onto his plate.

“Um, what the fuck was that?”

“Perhaps we should go find out,” Ursula replied. She and the other seventh years were the first out of the hall to see what the commotion was.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the entrance hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at Professor Umbridge, who stood across the entrance hall at the bottom of the stairs.

Within moments, the entrance hall was packed, as students came pouring out of the Great Hall. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. Ursula and her friends, all tall Slytherins, were in the very inner circle, with no one in front of them to witness the unfolding scene. Professor McGonagall, who had stopped just outside the Great Hall looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.

“No!” Professor Trelawney shrieked. “NO! This cannot be happening… It cannot… I refuse to accept it!”

“You didn’t realize this was coming?” said Professor Umbridge in a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused. “Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow’s weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?”

“You c-can’t!” howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, “you c-can’t sack me! I’ve b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!”

“It was your home,” said Professor Umbridge, and Ursula was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toad-like face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, “until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us.”

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backward and forward on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Footsteps sounded. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

“There, there, Sibyll… Calm down… Blow your nose on this… It’s not as bad as you think, now… You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…”

“Oh really, Professor McGonagall?” said Professor Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. “And your authority for that statement is…?”

“That would be mine,” said a deep voice.

The oak front doors had swung open.

Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Professor Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. Leaving the doors wide behind him, he strode forward through the circle of onlookers toward the place where Professor Trelawney sat, tearstained and trembling, upon her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.

“Yours, Professor Dumbledore?” said Professor Umbridge with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. “I’m afraid you do not understand the position. I have here —” She pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes. “— an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her.”

Professor Dumbledore continued to smile. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said, “You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid,” he went on, with a courteous little bow, “that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts.”

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccup was barely hidden.

“No — no, I’ll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —”

“No,” said Professor Dumbledore sharply. “It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll.”

He turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?”

“Of course,” said Professor McGonagall. “Up you get, Sibyll…”

Professor Sprout came hurrying forward out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney’s other arm. Together they guided her past Professor Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked, “ _ Locomotor trunks _ !” and Professor Trelawney’s luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.

Professor Umbridge was standing stock-still, staring at Professor Dumbledore, who continued to smile benignly.

“And what,” she said in a whisper that nevertheless carried all around the entrance hall, “are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” said Professor Dumbledore pleasantly. “You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor.”

“You’ve found — ?” said Professor Umbridge shrilly. “You’ve found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-Two —” 

“— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one,” said Professor Dumbledore. “And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?”

He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. Ursula heard hooves. There was a shocked murmur around the hall and those nearest the doors hastily moved even farther backward, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer. Through the mist came a face with white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

“This is Firenze,” said Professor Dumbledore happily to a thunderstruck Professor Umbridge. Cassius chuckled. “I think you’ll find him suitable.”

Professor Umbridge’s face went from red to purple. As if just realizing they were there, Professor Dumbledore dismissed the students in the entrance hall, sending them scrambling up or down the stairs to get out of the way of Professor Umbridge’s fury.

“It was either her or Hagrid,” said Ursula, as a long line of Slytherins descended the stone stairs into the dungeon.

“She was an awful teacher, but she still didn’t deserve to be sacked like that, and in front of everyone,” said Adrian.

“Professor Umbridge was horrible to her, wasn’t she?” said Vanessa in agreement.

“I’ve got a feeling Umbridge has only just started being horrible,” said Lilian darkly.

“Impossible,” said Cassius, leading the way into the common room after saying the password to the bare stone wall. “She can’t get any worse than she’s been already.”

“No, Lilian’s right. You mark my words, she’s going to want revenge on Professor Dumbledore for appointing a new teacher without consulting her,” said Ursula. “Especially another part-human. You saw the look on her face when she saw Firenze…”

Firenze’s reception seemed generally positive, among the students at least, although Ursula didn’t really care, as she didn’t have Divination. Less than a quarter of their year was still taking it at NEWT level, and mostly to pad out their schedules. Soon a dull March blurred into a squally April, providing Ursula with only more problems to worry about.

“Our NEWTs are only two months away!” fretted Gemma. “Two months! Soon we’ll be applying for jobs and preparing for graduation, and then it’ll be time for the tests!”

“Calm down,” said Cassius. “Two months is ages of time.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Gemma upended her stack of books, several of them hitting Cassius.

“Ow!” he yelped, catching  _ Numerology and Grammatica _ .

“Serves you right,” fumed Gemma, retrieving her fallen books.

“It is time you started studying properly,” said Ursula. “What with Quidditch and prefect duties, it’s a miracle you get your homework done on time as is.”

“Fine,” said Cassius, rolling his eyes. But in all seriousness, he agreed, and he, Adrian, and Vanessa, joined Gemma, Ursula, and Lilian on their aggressive study regimen that took up several hours every evening.

Ursula, always burdened by more responsibilities than the rest of her friends, was put under even further stress as her teachers began setting them mock exams about once every two weeks, so they could get a feel for the difficulty and time pressure of the exams. Well, in every class except Defense Against the Dark Arts, where they had still to perform a single spell. Ursula was sure her entire grade would struggle on the exam if not for the League of Laurels for the Slytherins and Dumbledore’s Army for everyone else.

Of course, the two had still not found out about each other, and Ursula intended to keep it that way. The League didn’t need to know that a number of their fellow students were meeting behind their backs, and the DA didn’t need to know that the League had been doing it for years, with spells much darker than were taught by Harry.

Ursula had, however, brought Lilian to a DA meeting, making her the second Slytherin in attendance. Lilian’s attendance was marked with considerably less hostility, as she was well known for her interest in Muggle Studies and the rest of the DA had adjusted to Ursula being there. Lilian signed the parchment containing the names of everyone in attendance with ease.

Ursula was kept extremely busy, what with Quidditch practice twice a week, plus prefect patrol and her demanding course load, but she still found time to tutor Casper Rowle once a fortnight. He was coming along quite nicely in Transfiguration, having achieved an E on his OWL, and was no longer struggling, but excelling, which Ursula told him meant she didn’t need to tutor him any more.

The end of one responsibility on signalled the start of another, however, although this one was considerably more exciting. Ursula was at breakfast one sunny, gusty morning in early April, when an unfamiliar owl fluttered in with the mail and dropped a letter in her lap.

Ursula recognized the red wax seal as being from the British branch of the International Confederation of Wizards, and tried not to let her heart beat too fast as she peeled it open.

“What on earth —”

_ Dear Ms. Black, _

_ We in the British seats of the International Confederation of Wizards have received news of your discovery regarding Conjuration as a form of Untransfiguration through the weekly magazine  _ Transfiguration Today _. We keep up to date on the latest developments in magic to ensure that the greater wizarding community is informed. As you may be aware, one committee within the Confederation is dedicated to the advancement of Transfiguration, and it is our belief that your research would be of great use to that end. _

_ As a result, we wish to extend an invitation for you to speak at the International Symposium on Elemental Transfiguration, held this year at the French Ministry of Magic, in Paris, France. You would be responsible for delivering a speech detailing your research to the Symposium, which takes place in the first week of July. All accomodations for the week long conference will be provided. _

_ We hope you accept our offer promptly, as it is a matter of great importance to us. Enclosed are further details about the Symposium should you wish to know more. Please owl your response to the Clerk Office for the British Seats on the International Confederation of Wizards, located at the Ministry of Magic. _

_ Cordially yours, _

_ Callum Shackleton _

_ Secretary of the British Seats _

_ International Confederation of Wizards _

Ursula was so stunned that she dropped the letter on the table and had to put her head in her hands, half laughing and half crying. To say this was an honor was a huge understatement. Only in Ursula’s wildest dreams had she ever hoped something like this would happen, and even then she hadn’t imagined it when she was so young.

Her friends noticed her reaction and Lilian picked up the letter.

“By the name of Merlin,” she swore. “Ursula, congratulations! This is amazing! Oh my —”

Cassius snatched the letter from her hands and he and Adrian leaned together to read it.

“Wow,” said Adrian. “Ursula, that’s wonderful, congratulations!”

“This is a big deal!” said Cassius. “Well done!”

Ursula was so overcome that she was crying and Lilian patted her on the back.

“I have to tell Professor McGonagall,” said Ursula, wiping her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was, as expected, overjoyed. She actually shrieked when Ursula told her and had to sit down, awarding Ursula another fifty points.

Ursula’s success kept her in high spirits for at least the next week, as she received letters of congratulations from her father, Tonks, and Hadrian. Her friends celebrated with her, and even people in other houses, like Blossom, Rue, and Fred congratulated her.

Not even Professor Umbridge’s efforts to change the school could diminish Ursula’s glee, although if there was an incident that burst her bubble, it had to be what took place in the third week of April. Ursula was on her way to a Dumbledore’s Army meeting with Lilian when Cassius stopped her.

“Umbridge wants us to go to her office,” he said. “I don’t know why.”

Ursula gave Lilian a look that said she would meet her in the Room of Requirement and followed Cassius to Professor Umbridge’s office. Professor Umbridge looked positively gleeful, something Ursula was sure was a bad sign.

“Ah, Ms. Black, Mr. Warrington, there you are,” she said, when they entered. Ursula saw a sixth year Ravenclaw she recognized as Marietta Edgecombe sitting in front of Professor Umbridge’s desk, her head in her hands. “Ms. Edgecombe here has just informed me of an illegal organization that is meeting tonight in a secret room on the seventh floor.”

“Oh?” said Ursula, feigning surprise and cursing inwardly. “Really?”

“Yes. Finally I shall have something to use against Dumbledore,” said Professor Umbridge vindictively. “I have already alerted the Minister, who should be arriving in no time. Mr. Warrington, please gather a group of trustworthy Slytherins — Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Burke, and the like — and bring them to the seventh floor.”

Cassius nodded and left.

“Ms. Black, please console Ms. Edgecombe and see if she will explain more about this organization while I meet the Minister,” continued Professor Umbridge, waving vaguely towards Marietta. “Then come to the seventh floor at once.”

Ursula nodded. She had to figure out a way to alert the DA.

She knelt next to Marietta as Professor Umbridge left the office and asked her to remove her hands, forcing herself not to recoil when she saw what Hermione’s hex had done: SNEAK was spelled in horrible pimples across Marietta’s face.

“Can you tell me what you told Professor Umbridge?” asked Ursula kindly. She knew Marietta had seen her at these meetings, but she had an inkling from the fear in Marietta’s eyes and from the way Professor Umbridge still trusted Ursula that Marietta had not revealed her presence.

“I told her where the meeting was, and what it was for,” said Marietta guilty, adding with anguish, “and then this horrible jinx activated!”

She dissolved into tears and buried her face in her hands again. Ursula patted her on the back, then stepped out of the office.

She would never make it to the Room of Requirement in time to warn the DA what was coming.  _ What to do, what to do, what to do… _

Ursula pulled out her wand.

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ .”

~~~

DA lessons were easily Harry’s favorite thing about Hogwarts now that he was banned from playing Quidditch. He sometimes felt that he was living for the hours he spent in the Room of Requirement, working hard but thoroughly enjoying himself at the same time, swelling with pride as he looked around at his fellow DA members and saw how far they had come. Indeed, Harry sometimes wondered how Umbridge was going to react when all the members of the DA received “Outstanding” in their Defense Against the Dark Arts OWLs.

They had finally started work on Patronuses, which everybody had been very keen to practice, though as Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different to producing it when confronted by something like a dementor.

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy,” said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their lesson in late April. “They’re so pretty!”

“They’re not supposed to be pretty, they’re supposed to protect you,” said Harry patiently. “What we really need is a boggart or something; that’s how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor —”

“But that would be really scary!” said Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. “And I still — can’t — do it!” she added angrily.

Neville was having trouble too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip.

“You’ve got to think of something happy,” Harry reminded him.

“I’m trying,” said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

“Harry, I think I’m doing it!” yelled Seamus, who had been brought along to his first ever D.A. meeting by Dean. “Look — ah — it’s gone… But it was definitely something hairy, Harry!”

Hermione’s Patronus, a shining silver otter, was gamboling around her.

“They are sort of nice, aren’t they?” she said, looking at it fondly.

Harry was impressed when a large silvery bear patronus bounded into the center of the room, but looking around, he could not identify who cast it. It was only when the bear’s mouth opened and Ursula Black’s voice began to speak that Harry understood.

“ _ She knows. She’s coming. Get out _ .”

For a moment, there was complete silence, as everyone in the room had frozen to stare at the patronus. Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the fading patronus.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Harry bellowed. “RUN!”

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through; Harry could hear them sprinting along the corridors and hoped they had the sense not to try and make it all the way to their dormitories. It was only ten to nine, if they just took refuge in the library or the Owlery, which were both nearer —

“Harry, come on!” shrieked Hermione from the center of the knot of people now fighting to get out.

Harry glanced left and right, the others were all moving so fast that he caught only glimpses of flying heels at either end of the corridor before they vanished. He started to run right; there was a boys’ bathroom up ahead, he could pretend he’d been in there all the time if he could just reach it —

“AAARGH!”

~~~

Ursula hurried up to the seventh floor as fast as she could, successfully, colliding with Cassius and the other Slytherins, who were being commanded by Professor Umbridge. It was clear her patronus had arrived just in time, as students were running in every direction and Professor Umbridge told the Slytherins to scatter and look for people.

Ursula directed Graham Mntague and Edmund Urquhart to go left, down a passageway she knew was empty, as she went right, catching up with Blossom and Lilian.

“Ursula, what —” began Blossom

“No time to explain,” said Ursula, grabbing them both by the elbows and hurrying them forward. “Quick, go to the library, Gemma is there already, and curfew isn’t for another hour. You’re a Slytherin, Lilian, they won’t stop you. Hurry!”

Ursula ran back towards the Room of Requirement, which was now deserted and checked inside to be sure. To her horror, she spotted the piece of parchment with the names of every participant signed on it lying abandoned on the floor.

She picked up the list and, in a split second decision, tore it in half, leaving only the name of the group and Harry’s name at the top. She had passed Harry on the way in, and he had already been caught by Draco and Professor Umbridge, and she knew that with the name the DA had chosen, there might yet be a way out of this mess. Ursula stuffed the rest of the list, which included her own name, into her pocket and hurried back out into the corridor.

“Professor! Professor, I found the list!” she called, as she approached Professor Umbridge, who was leading Harry by the arm. Harry gave her a horrified look. “Unfortunately it’s been torn —”

“No matter,” said Professor Umbridge, her eyes gleaming hungrily as she snatched the scrap of parchment from Ursula. “Come, Ms. Black. It is time to speak to the Headmaster.”

They were at the stone gargoyle within minutes. Ursula hoped enough of the DA had gotten away or hid. It would’ve been too suspicious for her to stop the Slytherins from searching altogether, so she hoped that her advance warning had been enough.

“Fizzing Whizbee,” sang Professor Umbridge, and the stone gargoyle jumped aside, the wall behind split open, and they ascended the moving stone staircase. They reached the polished door with the griffin knocker, but Professor Umbridge did not bother to knock, so she strode straight inside, still holding tight to Harry with Ursula at her heels.

The office was full of people. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backward and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation. Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard Ursula recognized as John Dawlish were positioned on either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.

The portraits of old headmasters and mistresses were not feigning sleep tonight. All of them were watching what was happening below, alert and serious. As they entered, a few flitted into neighboring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbors’ ears.

Harry pulled himself free of Professor Umbridge’s grasp as the door swung shut behind them. Cornelius Fudge was glaring at him with a kind of vicious satisfaction upon his face.

“Well,” he said. “Well, well, well…”

Harry gave him a dirty look. Ursula remained quiet and still beside Professor Umbridge, her face composed and every-so-slightly satisfied, the kind of look she supposed she ought to have but very much not how she really felt.

“He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower,” said Professor Umbridge. There was an indecent excitement in her voice, the same callous pleasure Ursula had heard as she watched Professor Trelawney dissolving with misery in the entrance hall. “The Malfoy boy cornered him.”

“Did he, did he?” said Fudge appreciatively. “I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter… I expect you know why you are here?”

Harry opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider, and said, “Yeh — no.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Fudge.

“No,” said Harry, firmly.

“You  _ don’t _ know why you are here?”

“No, I don’t,” said Harry. Fudge looked incredulously from Harry to Professor Umbridge; Ursula noticed that Professor Dumbledore seemed to be staring very intently at the carpet.

“So you have no idea,” said Fudge in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, “why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?”

“School rules?” said Harry. “No.”

“Or Ministry decrees?” amended Fudge angrily.

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Harry blandly.

Ursula could have laughed. This was going far better than she’d expected, but it wasn’t resolved yet.

“So it’s news to you, is it,” said Fudge, his voice now thick with anger, “that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?”

“Yes, it is,” said Harry, hoisting an unconvincing look of innocent surprise onto his face.

“I think, Minister,” said Professor Umbridge silkily from beside him, “we might make better progress if I fetch our informant.”

“Yes, yes, do,” said Fudge, nodding, and he glanced maliciously at Professor Dumbledore. “There’s nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?”

“Nothing at all, Cornelius,” said Professor Dumbledore gravely, inclining his head.

“Ms. Black, if you please,” prompted Professor Umbridge. Inwardly, Ursula groaned at the thought of having to go all the way down from the seventh to the third floor and back again, but she smiled, nodded, and left, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Professor Umbridge would like you to come up to the Headmaster’s office,” said Ursula to Marietta. After a bit more coaxing, Marietta agreed, and Ursula led her gently by the arm back up the stairs, where it seemed the occupants of Professor Dumbledore’s office had not spoken or moved since Ursula left.

She led Marietta into the office, as Marietta was hiding her face in her hands the whole time.

“Don’t be scared, dear, don’t be frightened,” said Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, “it’s quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He’ll be telling your mother what a good girl you’ve been. Marietta’s mother, Minister,” she added, looking up at Fudge, “is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation. Floo Network office — she’s been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know.”

“Jolly good, jolly good!” said Fudge heartily. “Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don’t be shy, let’s hear what you’ve got to — galloping gargoyles!”

As Marietta raised her head, Fudge leapt backward in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He cursed and stamped on the hem of his cloak, which had started to smoke, and Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before the whole room had seen that her face was horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word ‘SNEAK.’

“Never mind the spots now, dear,” said Professor Umbridge impatiently, “just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister —”

But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically. Ursula again patted her on the back, although she felt little sympathy for her and was rather impressed by Hermione’s spellcasting abilities. She had always suspected there had been a jinx on the parchment, which was really the main reason she had agreed to sign it; it was the same reason Ursula made the entire League of Laurels sign a contract.

“Oh, very well, you silly girl, I’ll tell him,” snapped Professor Umbridge. She hitched her sickly smile back onto her face and said, “Well, Minister, Ms. Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point this hex,” she waved impatiently at Marietta’s concealed face, “came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more.”

“Well, now,” said Fudge, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagined was a kind and fatherly look. “It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?”

But Marietta would not speak. She merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful.

“Haven’t we got a counter-jinx for this?” Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta’s face. “So she can speak freely?”

“I have not yet managed to find one,” Professor Umbridge admitted grudgingly. “But it doesn’t matter if she won’t speak, I can take up the story from here. You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade —”

“And what is your evidence for that?” cut in Professor McGonagall.

“I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired,” said Professor Umbridge smugly. “He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me —”

“Oh, so  _ that’s _ why he wasn’t prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!” said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. “What an interesting insight into our justice system!”

“Blatant corruption!” roared the portrait of the corpulent, rednosed wizard on the wall behind Professor Dumbledore’s desk. “The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!”

“Thank you, Fortescue, that will do,” said Professor Dumbledore softly.

“The purpose of Potter’s meeting with these students,” continued Professor Umbridge, “was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age —”

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong there, Dolores,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose.

The wheels in Ursula’s head were turning, as she recalled the date of the Hog’s Head meeting — so there  _ had _ been something suspicious going on that day — and the date of the next Education Decree… She hoped that was where Professor Dumbledore was headed, as she couldn’t imagine another way out of this.

“Oho!” said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. “Yes, do let’s hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on — Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter’s identical twin in the Hog’s Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?”

Percy Weasley let out a hearty laugh.

“Oh, very good, Minister, very good!”

Professor Dumbledore smiled gently.

“Cornelius, I do not deny — and nor, I am sure, does Harry — that he was in the Hog’s Head that day, nor that he was trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry’s Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules in the Hog’s Head at all.”

Percy looked as though he had been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remained motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open.

Professor Umbridge recovered first.

“That’s all very fine, Headmaster,” she said, smiling sweetly. “But we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are.”

“Well,” said Professor Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, “they certainly would be, if they had continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?”

As Professor Dumbledore spoke, Ursula heard a rustle behind her and could have sworn Kingsley whispered something. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had just cast a spell.

“Evidence?” repeated Professor Umbridge with that horrible wide toadlike smile. “Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Ms. Edgecombe is here?”

“Oh, can she tell us about six months’ worth of meetings?” said Professor Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows. “I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight.”

“Ms. Edgecombe,” said Professor Umbridge at once, “tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I’m sure that won’t make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?”

Ursula’s grip tightened ever so slightly on Marietta’s arm. If she gave them away now…

“Just nod or shake your head, dear,” Professor Umbridge said coaxingly to Marietta. “Come on, now, that won’t activate the jinx further…”

Everyone in the room was gazing at the top of Marietta’s face. Only her eyes were visible between the pulled up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but her eyes looked oddly blank. And then — just as Ursula suspected she would — Marietta shook her head.

Professor Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge and then back at Marietta.

“I don’t think you understood the question, did you, dear? I’m asking whether you’ve been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven’t you?”

Again, Marietta shook her head.

“What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?” said Professor Umbridge in a testy voice.

“I would have thought her meaning was quite clear,” said Professor McGonagall harshly. “There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Ms. Edgecombe?”

Marietta nodded.

“But there was a meeting tonight!” said Professor Umbridge furiously. “There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organized it, Potter —  _ why are you shaking your head, girl _ ?”

“Well, usually when a person shakes their head,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, “they mean ‘no.’ So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans —”

Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her around to face her, and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Professor Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised. Kingsley started forward and Professor Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned.

“I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Professor Dolores,” said Dumbledore, and for the first time, he looked angry. “Ms. Black, please help Ms. Edgecombe into a chair.”

Ursula did as she was told, guiding Marietta into a tall chair by the fire. She seemed neither perturbed by Professor Umbridge’s sudden attack, nor relieved by her release. She was still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes, staring straight ahead of her. Ursula knew for sure now what Kingsley had done.

“You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge,” said Kingsley in his deep, slow voice. “You don’t want to get yourself into trouble now.”

“No,” said Professor Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. “I mean, yes — you’re right, Shacklebolt — I — I forgot myself.”

“Dolores,” said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, “the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened —”

“Yes,” said Umbridge, pulling herself together, “yes… well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain  _ trustworthy _ students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, as Ms. Black ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind… We needed evidence and the room provided…”

“Another achievement for Lucius to be proud of,” said Fudge, nodding to Ursula.

As Professor Umbridge withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement’s wall and handed it to Fudge, Ursula’s eyes connected very briefly with Professor Dumbledore, who gave the barest of nods.

“It is torn, but that is no matter. The moment I saw Potter’s name, I knew what we were dealing with,” Professor Umbridge said softly.

“Excellent,” said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face. “Excellent, Dolores. And… by thunder…”

He looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who was still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand.

“See what they’ve named themselves?” said Fudge quietly. “ _ Dumbledore’s Army. _ ”

Professor Dumbledore reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazed at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling.

“Well, the game is up,” he said simply. “Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?”

Ursula saw Professor McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There was fear in both faces. Fudge clearly did not understand what was going on.

“Statement?” said Fudge slowly. “What — I don’t — ?”

“Dumbledore’s Army, Cornelius,” said Professor Dumbledore, still smiling as he waved the scrap of parchment before Fudge’s face. “Not Potter’s Army.  _ Dumbledore’s Army _ .”

“But — but —”

Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge’s face. He took a horrified step backward, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again.

“You?” he whispered, stamping again on his smoldering cloak.

“That’s right,” said Professor Dumbledore pleasantly.

“You organized this?”

“I did,” said Professor Dumbledore.

“You recruited these students for — for your army?”

“Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting,” said Professor Dumbledore, nodding. “Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Ms. Edgecombe, of course.”

Marietta nodded. Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling.

“Then you  _ have _ been plotting against me!” he yelled.

“That’s right,” said Professor Dumbledore cheerfully.

“NO!” shouted Harry.

Kingsley flashed a look of warning at him and Professor McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly. Ursula suppressed her urge to glare at him, as Professor Dumbledore was the only thing standing between Harry and expulsion.

“No — Professor Dumbledore!”

“Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office,” said Professor Dumbledore calmly.

“Yes, shut up, Potter!” barked Fudge, who was still ogling Professor Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. “Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead —”

“Instead you get to arrest me,” said Professor Dumbledore, smiling. “It’s like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn’t it?”

“Weasley!” cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, “Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he’s said, his confession, have you got it?”

“Yes, sir, I think so, sir!” said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking.

“The bit about how he’s been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he’s been working to destabilize me?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve got it, yes!” said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.

“Very well, then,” said Fudge, now radiant with glee. “Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!”

Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Professor Dumbledore.

“You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!”

“Ah,” said Professor Dumbledore gently, “yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag.”

“Snag?” said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. “I see no snag, Dumbledore!”

“Well,” said Professor Dumbledore apologetically, “I’m afraid I do.”

“Oh really?”

“Well — it’s just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? ‘Come quietly.’ I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing.”

Professor Umbridge’s face was growing steadily redder, she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Professor Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened. He made a small choking noise and then looked around at Kingsley and Dawlish, who had remained entirely silent so far. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forward a little, away from the wall. Ursula saw his hand drift, almost casually, toward his pocket.

“Don’t be silly, Dawlish,” said Professor Dumbledore kindly. “I’m sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved ‘Outstanding’ in all your NEWTs, but if you attempt to — er — ‘bring me in’ by force, I will have to hurt you.”

Dawlish blinked, looking rather foolish. He looked toward Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next.

“So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?”

“Merlin’s beard, no,” said Professor Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.”

“He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.

“Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Professor Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!”

“Enough of this rubbish!” said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. “Dawlish! Shacklebolt!  _ Take him _ !”

A streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled. A hand grabbed Ursula’s robes and yanked her down on the floor as a second silver flash went off — several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched, and a cloud of dust filled the air. Ursula pulled Marietta down with her, coughing in the dust. There was a shriek and a thud and somebody cried, “No!” Then the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, a groan — and silence.

Ursula turned to see Professor McGonagall crouched behind her. She had forced both her and Harry out of harm’s way and thanked Ursula for grabbing Marietta as well. Dust was still floating gently down through the air onto them. Panting slightly, Ursula saw a very tall figure moving toward them.

“Are you all right?” said Professor Dumbledore.

“Yes!” said Professor McGonagall, getting up and dragging the students with her.

The dust was clearing. The wreckage of the office loomed into view: Professor Dumbledore’s desk had been overturned, all of the spindly tables had been knocked to the floor, their silver instruments in pieces. Fudge, Professor Umbridge, Kingsley, and Dawlish lay motionless on the floor. Fawkes the phoenix soared in wide circles above them, singing softly.

“Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious,” said Professor Dumbledore in a low voice. “He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe’s memory like that while everyone was looking the other way — thank him for me, won’t you, Minerva?”

Professor McGonagall nodded.

“Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate — you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember —”

“Where will you go, Dumbledore?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Grimmauld Place?”

“Oh no,” said Professor Dumbledore with a grim smile. “I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he’d never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you… Ms. Black, am I right in assuming it was you who tore the list?”

Harry looked at Ursula with wide eyes. By way of answer, she pulled the rest of the slightly crumpled list out of her pocket.

“The information you have given me has been most useful,” said Professor Dumbledore quickly. “If you wish to convey further —”

“There is a house that once belonged to my great aunt,” said Ursula, and Professor Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

“Professor Dumbledore…” Harry began.

“Listen to me, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore urgently, cutting him off before he could say another word, “you must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams — you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me —”

Dawlish began to stir. Professor Dumbledore seized Harry’s wrist.

“Remember — close your mind — you will understand,” whispered Professor Dumbledore.

Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Professor Dumbledore released Harry, raised his hand, and grasped the phoenix’s long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair of them had gone.

“Where is he?” yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know!” shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.

“Well, he can’t have Disapparated!” cried Professor Umbridge. “You can’t inside this school —”

“The stairs!” cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Professor Umbridge. Fudge hesitated, then got to his feet slowly, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.

“Well, Minerva,” said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, “I’m afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore.”

“You think so, do you?” said Professor McGonagall scornfully. Fudge seemed not to hear her. He was looking around at the wrecked office. A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures.

“You’d better get those three off to bed,” said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod toward Ursula, Harry, and Marietta.

Ursula followed Professor McGonagall to the door, pushing Harry a little so he wouldn’t look back. As it swung closed behind them, Ursula heard Phineas Nigellus’s voice.

“You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts… but you cannot deny he’s got style…”


	82. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

— By order of —

**The Ministry of Magic**

_ Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_ The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight. _

_ Signed: _

Cornelius Oswald Fudge

_ Minister of Magic _

The notices had gone up all over the school overnight, but they did not explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Professor Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister of Magic, and his Junior Assistant to escape. The explanation for that was Ursula, who thought it best to undermine Professor Umbridge’s authority as quickly and secretly as possible, in this case by spreading surprisingly accurate gossip around the school.

No matter where Ursula went within the castle next day, the sole topic of conversation was Professor Dumbledore’s flight, and though some of the details might have gone awry in the retelling (Ursula overheard one second-year girl assuring another that Fudge was now lying in St. Mungo’s with a pumpkin for a head), it was surprising how accurate the rest of their information was.

“Dumbledore will be back soon enough,” said Lilian confidently. Ursula had gone straight to the library to relay the whole thing to Lilian and Blossom.

“Did you hear that she tried to go back into his office last night after they’d searched the castle and grounds for him?” said Ursula. She smirked. “She couldn’t get past the gargoyle. The Headmaster’s office has sealed itself against her.”

“Serves her right,” said Cassius as they headed to Charms.

“Apparently she threw a bit of a tantrum when it wouldn’t let her back in,” said Ursula.

“I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head’s office,” said Adrian. “Crazy old bat.”

Despite their wild criticism and general distaste for Professor Umbridge, Ursula, Cassius, and Adrian had all joined the Inquisitorial Squad when she had come down to the Slytherin common room to announce its formation that morning.

The Inquisitorial Squad was formed entirely of Slytherins who ‘supported the Ministry of Magic and their Headmistress’ or at least pretended to. They had each been given a little silver I to wear on their robes and the power to dock points from all of their fellow students, though the first person to attempt to dock points from Lewis Clark, the Head Boy, got a week’s worth of detention and fifty points from Slytherin. The entire Inquisitorial Squad was also, despite their outrage upon discovering the DA, members of the League of Laurels; even Draco was involved, making his hypocrisy palpable.

Of course, the first thing that this new power was used for was to abuse it, as Draco and his friends invariably began to take away meaningless points from people they didn’t like. This was a common practice throughout the squad, although it had its uses; Cassius docked Jacob ten points for being rude to Lilian over Muggle Studies.

Professor Umbridge’s new power only emboldened the students to take action against her, and Fred and George didn’t make it one day before rebelling.

Professor Umbridge called Ursula to her office shortly before lunch on Thursday. Her office was the same as usual except for the large wooden block lying across the front of her desk on which golden letters spelled the word HEADMISTRESS; also Fred and George’s Cleansweeps and Harry’s Firebolt were now chained and padlocked to a stout iron peg in the wall behind the desk. Professor Umbridge was sitting behind the desk, busily scribbling upon some of her pink parchment, but looked up and smiled widely at her entrance.

“Ms. Black, thank you for coming,” she said.

“Of course, Headmistress,” said Ursula, with her most charming smile. “I’m always happy to help improve the school and uphold standards.”

“Which is why you will go far in life,” said Professor Umbridge. “Now, I asked for you to be here so I could inform you of some of the changes I am enacting. I am waiting on approval for Education Decree Number Twenty-Seven, so that Mr. Filch can properly punish students.”

Ursula nodded, concealing her horror easily.

“I am also planning to ask the Minister for an executive order to expel Peeves once and for all,” continued Professor Umbridge. “Finally, I wish for all mail to be opened and checked by the Inquisitorial Squad” Ursula groaned inwardly at the thought of another time-consuming, utterly wasteless task. “And I wish for you to head the Inquisitorial Squad.”

“Me, Headmistress?” said Ursula. “I’m honored.”

“You have served me well, Ms. Black, and I aim to reward you for your services,” said Professor Umbridge.

If Professor Umbridge knew how well Ursula was really serving her, she would have a fit. For a start, Ursula fully intended to let all mail through, and as such planned to keep people like her cousin away from the job of opening it. Betelgeuse often visited Professor Umbridge’s office on his own, evening bringing with him several other cats, on occasion, to claw, pee, and hurl in different places around the room. Ursula was also slowly rearranging Professor Umbridge’s possessions, turning a cat plate upside down by magic here and there, hiding quills and parchment and the like in odd places, just to slowly drive the headmistress insane.

But nothing she could do compared to Fred and George who, that very day, set off their most epic prank yet. Ursula was at lunch, in the Great Hall, with everyone else, when —

_ BOOM! _

The very floor shook, with goblets spilling and silverware falling to the ground.

“What the bloody hell —” said Cassius, who had sloshed half his pumpkin juice all over the poor fourth year sitting beside him.

They could hear people running and shrieking outside, and just like when Professor Trelawney was sacked, there was a great push to see what was going on.

The source of all the uproar was not difficult to find; somebody (and Ursula had a very shrewd idea who) had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.

Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord. Firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Ursula looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight, or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.

Professor Umbridge and Filch were standing, apparently transfixed with horror, halfway down the stairs. As Ursula watched, one of the larger Catherine wheels seemed to decide that what it needed was more room to maneuver; it whirled toward Professor Umbridge and Filch with a sinister  _ wheeeeeeeeee _ . Both adults yelled with fright and ducked and it soared straight out of the window behind them and off across the grounds. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape toward the second floor.

“Hurry, Filch, hurry!” shrieked Professor Umbridge. “They’ll be all over the school unless we do something —  _ Stupefy _ !”

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in midair, it exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow — she ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the painting next door, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her.

“Don’t stun them, Filch!” shouted Professor Umbridge angrily, as though it had been his suggestion. 

“Right you are, Headmistress!” wheezed Filch, who was a Squib and could no more have Stunned the fireworks than swallowed them. He dashed to a nearby cupboard, pulled out a broom, and began swatting at the fireworks in midair; within seconds the head of the broom was ablaze.

The whole school roared with laughter, ducking and running from the fireworks while turning to watch them blaze with glory. Professor Umbridge soon discovered that while stupefying the rockets only made them fly with more power, attempts to vanish them multiplied them by ten.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much.

“Mr. Warrington, please tell the headmistress that we have another firework wreaking havoc about the room?” said Professor Snape for the fourth time in their double Potions class. Even he disliked Professor Umbridge, which showed just how awful she was.

The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and the students were heading back to the Slytherin Dungeons with their bags, Ursula saw, with immense satisfaction, a disheveled and soot-blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick’s classroom.

“Thank you so much, Professor!” said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. “I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the  _ authority _ …”

Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.

Fred and George were heroes. Everyone knew it was them who had set off the stunning display. They began advertising in the corridors before and after dinner, while Professor Umbridge was occupied with further complaints, drawing an exciting crowd.

“Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs!” said George. He gestured to Lee, who was helping Fred take orders from clamoring students from all four houses. “It’s five Galleons for your Basic Blaze box, or you could go for the Deflagration Deluxe!”

“How much would that be?” said Ursula to Fred, reaching the front of the line.

“Twenty Galleons usually,” he said. “Although I suppose I could give the Head Girl a discount.”

“There’s no need,” said Ursula, grinning at him. “I’ll pay full price for a product as good as this.”

“Only the best,” promised Fred, with what Ursula could have sworn was a wink.

All throughout dinner, silver-tailed Weasley rockets zoomed past the windows, the distant  _ bangs _ of escaped fireworks echoed in the night, and the occasional sparkler floated past, still resolutely spelling out the word POO. Eventually one of the Catherine wheels hit a rocket, producing glittering, pink-and-silver winged piglets that soared past the windows of the Great Hall.

The teachers were still dealing with the fireworks the next day; in fact, Ursula rather thought some of them had multiplied the fireworks on purpose the day before, just to give Professor Umbridge more work to do.

“Dear, dear,” said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. “Ms. Shafiq, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?”

Another incident on Friday that captured the attention of the Headmistress was Graham Montague’s reappearance. He had disappeared some time the previous morning, though no one knew how or where he went, and still hadn’t reappeared in time for Quidditch practice that evening, which angered Adrian greatly. But on Friday, after dinner, he reappeared.

“He’s jammed inside a toilet,” said Cassius with an exasperated sigh, “up on the fourth floor.”

“He’s  _ what _ ?” chorused Ursula and Lilian.

“Ew!” said Vanessa.

“How’d he get there?” said Adrian. Cassius shrugged.

“No one knows. He’s a bit confused,” he said.

“Damn,” said Adrian. “If he’s not better by Monday, I’ll tell Guinevere Derrick she can play keeper.”

Montague was no better by Monday, as it happened, and Adrian upped Quidditch practices to four nights a week to get ready for their upcoming match against Hufflepuff. Meanwhile Cassius, for his part, was startled to discover that they only had five weeks left to prepare for their NEWTs.

“It’s not exactly like they crept up on you, now is it?” said Gemma crossly. Indeed, they spent the majority of the Easter holidays stuck inside, motivated only by the positively enormous chocolate eggs sent to them by Vanessa’s mother, which were filled with individually wrapped caramels.

The weather grew breezier, brighter, and warmer as the holidays passed, but the fifth and seventh years were all trapped inside, traipsing back and forth to the library. As decided, Ursula put herself, Cassius, Adrian, Gemma, and a few friendly sixth years like Callum Higgs in charge of screening the mail. All they had to do was make each letter or package look like it had been opened, and Ursula had strictly ordered them not to tell anyone else what they were really up to.

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices concerning various Wizarding careers appeared on the tables in the Slytherin common room, the same ones that had appeared before their OWLs. The seventh years all had to endure another career advice session, this time where they would begin their official applications for their chosen career path.

“Here is all the necessary paperwork for your application to the Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary in Romania,” said Professor Snape in a bored voice, handing Ursula a thick folder. “It includes a description of the program, application requirements like letters of recommendation… upon completing your NEWTs, your scores will be mailed to the sanctuary on your behalf, and sometime in the weeks following you should hear if you were accepted or not.”

“I understand,” said Ursula. “Thank you, Professor.”

Ursula similarly sat down for advice sessions with Professor McGonagall, who gave her the contact information for no less than seven professional Transfigurers, all of whom were eager and practically clamoring to take Ursula on as an apprentice, and Professor Umbridge, who was less than thrilled to hear about her chosen career.

“So, Ms. Black,” said Professor Umbridge, pouring tea from a steaming floral teapot. “Have you decided what career you would like to pursue after graduation? If not, perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“I have, Professor,” said Ursula. “I have decided to become a dragonologist.”

Judging by Professor Umbridge’s slightly stale smile, this was neither the answer she had expected or hoped for.

“I see,” she said.

“Of course, after a year or two of practical experience, I might settle down and get a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” said Ursula. “My boyfriend, Hadrian Rowle, works as an assistant for Julius Burke at the Ministry already.”

That was all, of course, a complete and utter lie. Ursula had no interest in a Ministry job nor did she have any desire to ever give up her dream job of dragonology, but Professor Umbridge didn’t need to know that. Indeed, Ursula’s revised answer had made the headmistress brighten up again.

“That sounds very sensible, Ms. Black,” she said. “I will be sure to put in a good word for you and for your Mr. Rowle.”

“That would be very generous of you,” said Ursula, smiling and raising her cup of tea to her lips.

Her friends returned from their individual interviews with much the same reactions as they had two years ago, particularly Lilian, who detested being mocked. Her career advice session with Professor Snape lasted barely five minutes, and she ended up getting the paperwork needed for her application to the Ministry from Professor Burbage.

“Maybe you can ask Fred to put in a good word for me with his dad,” said Lilian. Ursula rolled her eyes. “There hasn’t been an intern in this office in years.”

“I had a letter today,” said Adrian excitedly, showing it to them. “If we win our last game, I’ve as good as got a place on the reserve team for the Appleby Arrows.”

“That’s great! Congrats,” said Cassius, thumping him on the back. He said, with not even a hint of excitement in his voice, “I had a letter from my father. He said I shouldn’t worry about applying and that he’d find me a job.”

Lilian winced.

“That bad, huh?” she said. Cassius shrugged.

“I’ll just end up as someone’s assistant,” he said. “It’ll probably be fine.”

“I’d still try to get good reference letters and grades, that sort of thing,” said Ursula, as she read through the list of requirements needed just for the application. “Hmm, it says here I need a minimum of three letters of recommendation. That’s more than I expected.”

“Honestly, every teacher in this school would write you a letter,” said Vanessa. She was absorbed in a pamphlet about becoming a healer that she only looked mildly interested in.

“I didn’t realize this much paperwork went into our applications,” said Cassius, flicking through Gemma’s stack of papers.

“If you don’t want to be an intern or an assistant, you have to work for it,” said Gemma, shooing his hand away. “Professor Snape thinks I have a real shot at landing a job in the International Magical Office of Law. It all depends on my NEWT scores, though.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” said Ursula. “I know we’re supposed to apply to a couple places, in case we don’t get in, but I can’t think of anywhere else I’d like to work. I suppose I could apply to a smaller dragon sanctuary, but most want you to have experience already…”

The others nodded in understanding. Their applications were all confusing, direction-wise, and some barely described the job they offered. Interns often needed previous experience, which was absurd, because they were interns, and it was altogether nerve-wracking to realize just how close they were to adulthood. Of course, all of them were legally adults, but it didn’t feel that way when they were still at school.

Now that they could, for the most part, name the exact career they had in mind, studying for their NEWTs became their top priority. Even Adrian, who spent more of his time on Quidditch strategy than studying, as that was what he needed to prove he was good at if he wanted his dream job, was dedicated in reviewing his notes and past tests.

Ursula had begun studying in the library all by herself, taking up an entire table in the very last row before the Restricted Section, where she could limit the amount of interruptions. Normally she studied with her friends, but some days she just needed to read and review in silence. Tonight, she had an enormous amount of textbooks and loose scrolls of parchment spread over the dark oak desk, and was slowly finishing a Herbology essay as the lanterns around her burned low. The library was nearly empty by this time of night, so the only sound was the soft scratch of her quill.

That is, until she heard footsteps.

Footsteps in a library wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but running footsteps was. Within moments, Fred had rounded the corner, out of breath and slightly frantic. His eyes lit up when he saw Ursula.

“Umbridge — caught us — hide —”

“Quick, er, get under the desk,” said Ursula, thinking quickly through what Fred’s options were.

Fred nodded and ran over, squeezing under the desk, which had a wood panel on the front so Professor Umbridge would not see him. Ursula sat back down and did her best to pretend like nothing was amiss as, mere seconds later, Professor Umbridge reached her row and came striding towards her, red faced and out of breath.

“Ms. Black, have you seen one of those dreadful Weasley twins come by?” panted Professor Umbridge.

“No, Professor, I haven’t seen anyone come by,” said Ursula. She stood, started to come around the desk, and said, “I can help you look —”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” said Professor Umbridge. Still out of breath, she stalked off, first further down the aisle to the gates to the Restricted Section then back up. Only when the tap of her heels had faded away into nothing did Fred come out from under the desk.

“Thanks for that,” he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he leaned against the desk. “We, er, let loose some Trumpeter Toads on the fifth floor. They have especially loud croaks, you see, and Umbridge caught us, so we split up.”

“I see,” said Ursula. “I was wondering when you and George would cause more mischief.”

Fred laughed.

“What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time during the holidays?” he said. “No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we’d have messed up people’s studying too, which would be the very last thing we’d want to do.”

“How very thoughtful of you,” said Ursula with a slight giggle.

“But it’s business as usual from tomorrow,” Fred continued briskly. “We were asked to cause a bit of an uproar, for a good cause, and figured it was time.”

“Time… for what?” asked Ursula. Fred looked slightly sheepish.

“George and I have decided we’ve, er, outgrown Hogwarts,” he said.

“You’re… leaving… tomorrow?” said Ursula, wishing she didn’t sound so desperate.

“Yeah,” said Fred hoarsely. “Yeah, we’re going to open our shop officially. Thanks to you.”

Ursula shook her head.

“They’re your products,” she said. “All I did was buy the building. You could’ve done that without me.”

“But I’m glad I didn’t have to,” said Fred. “Well. I’ll… I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” breathed Ursula.

Fred leaned forward slightly, bringing up his hand to tuck a stray curl behind Ursula’s ear, and then, so suddenly Ursula wasn’t sure how it happened, they were kissing.

Ursula’s hands grasped Fred’s waist, keeping him close, as he cupped her jaw gently, ever so gently, as they kissed. It was the most amazing kiss Ursula had ever had, made better by how long she had waited for it to happen, and it felt so, so right.

When they finally broke apart, it was as if they saw the world in color for the first time. It felt as if everything had changed, as if the very ground beneath their feet had shifted, and yet nothing had. There was no great shift in the order of the world; they simply stood, pressed together, alone in the dimly lit library, blushing like fools.

“Well,” said Fred, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well,” replied Ursula, blushing harder than she’d ever had before.

“I should, er, I should get going,” said Fred, taking two clumsy steps backwards and nearly tripping over Ursula’s bag.

“That’s probably best,” said Ursula, smiling at him. “Curfew and all.”

“Yeah,” said Fred, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, you’re right. Bye Ursula.”

“Bye Fred,” Ursula said. As soon as he had disappeared around the bookshelf she clapped her hands over her mouth, laughing to herself and grinning like mad, hardly believing what had just happened.

Ursula did not go back to her common room until after curfew, simply because she could not stop smiling, nor could she tame the blush that had risen over her cheeks.

She had kissed Fred Weasley. And it was the best choice she had ever made.

~~~

“What’s put you in such a good mood today?” said Cassius the next morning at breakfast.

“Nothing in particular,” said Ursula, grinning to herself as she spread marmalade on toast.

There was an added bounce in Ursula’s step that day, as Cassius correctly pointed out, but she wasn’t going to admit why. She and Fred didn’t say anything to each other during Defense Against the Dark Arts — though he was hardly there for five minutes before he used one of the Skiving Snackboxes to leave — or in double Transfiguration, but he walked around wearing a dopey grin of his own.

When the bell rang at five o’clock, signalling the end of their last lesson, the seventh years flooded out into the corridor.

“I’m so glad it’s Friday,” said Lilian, falling into step with Ursula and Cassius. “Two days of freedom. I can’t believe we only have a month left before our exams.”

“I know,” said Ursula. “It seems like time is going by so fast —”

_ BOOM _ !

The unmistakable sound of an explosion echoed up ahead, seemingly coming from the entrance hall. A second  _ BOOM _ rolled off the walls, then a third. The seventh years all ducked and ran for cover as green slime shot through the air up from the ground floor below them, but they were trapped on a moving staircase. Ursula and Lilain took refuge behind Cassius, who was tall and broad enough to shield them, and unfortunate enough to get a face full of Stinksap.

People exiting the classrooms all around them were stopping in their tracks or turning the other way. When it became clear, however, that they too were not going to fall victim to Fred and George’s prank, they pushed forward, hurrying to see what the fuss was all about.

Professor Umbridge came pelting down the stairs, and when she saw the Slytherins her eyes lit up.

“You six!” she called, either unaware or ignoring the fact that Lilian had outright refused to join her Inquisitorial Squad. “Come with me!”

They followed her down one staircase and then another, peering over the railings at the scene that had unfolded below them. There was a great deal of shouting and movement coming from the entrance hall, and by the time Ursula and the others had reached it, much of the school was already there, cramming themselves on the opposite staircases to avoid stepping in the swamp below them, which appeared to be several feet deep.

“Inquisitorial Squad!” shouted Professor Umbridge, pointing victoriously at the culprits. Fred and George stood in the middle of the muck, looking very much like two people who had just been caught but weren’t the least bit guilty about it. “Surround them!”

“You heard her,” said Ursula, pushing Cassius forward.

“You’re not going to help?” said Cassius, curling his lip at the greenish brown swamp.

“Are you kidding? Not a chance,” said Ursula. She was not about to go wading through swamp water in a skirt, for Professor Umbridge or anyone else.

Cassius and Adrian groaned, with the former pausing to roll up his pant legs to the knee before they struggled forward. It was just like the night when Professor Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring; teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were other members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead and gazing down at Fred and George.

Ursula went to stand beside Professor Umbridge, who was once again bearing down upon her prey from a height. Even in their haste to see what was going on, no one wanted to stand by her, so the several lowest steps that had not been consumed by the swamp were empty.

“So!” said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. “So… you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?”

“Pretty amusing, yeah,” said Fred, looking back up at her without the slightest sign of fear. For a moment his gaze flicked to Ursula, and he winked.

Filch, whom Professor Umbridge had sent up to her office moments before, elbowed his way back through the crowd closer to Professor Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

“I’ve got the form, Headmistress,” he said hoarsely, waving a piece of horrid pink parchment. “I’ve got the form and I’ve got the whips waiting… Oh, let me do it now…”

Even Ursula couldn’t hide her disgust, and she frowned at Professor Umbridge, who did not see. She was quite sure what Filch proposed was illegal, form or no form.

“Very good, Argus,” said Professor Umbridge. “You two,” she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, “are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school.”

“You know what?” said Fred. “I don’t think we are.”

He turned to his twin.

“George,” said Fred, “I think we’ve outgrown full-time education.”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling that way myself,” said George lightly.

“Time to test our talents in the real world, d’you reckon?” asked Fred.

“Definitely,” said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together, “ _ Accio Brooms _ !”

Ursula heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance, likely from Professor Umbridge’s office. Fred and George’s broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Professor Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. The students assembled in the hall all ducked as the broomsticks soared overhead. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

“We won’t be seeing you,” Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

“Yeah, don’t bother to keep in touch,” said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

“If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes,” he said in a loud voice. “Our new premises!”

“Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they’re going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,” added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

“STOP THEM!” shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

“Give her hell from us, Peeves.”

And Peeves, whom Ursula had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.


	83. NEWTs

The story of Fred and George’s flight to freedom was retold so often over the next few days that Ursula could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwarts legend. Within a week, even those who had been eyewitnesses were half-convinced that they had seen the twins dive-bomb Professor Umbridge on their brooms, pelting her with Dungbombs before zooming out of the doors. In the immediate aftermath of their departure there was a great wave of talk about copying them, so that Ursula frequently heard students saying things like, “Honestly, some days I just feel like jumping on my broom and leaving this place,” or else, “One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley…”

Fred and George had made sure that nobody was likely to forget them very soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Professor Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually the area was roped off and Filch, gnashing his teeth furiously, was given the task of punting students across it to their classrooms. Ursula was certain that teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant, but just as in the case of Fred and George’s Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.

Then there were the two large broom-shaped holes in Professor Umbridge’s office door, through which Fred and George’s Cleansweeps had smashed to rejoin their masters. Filch fitted a new door and removed Harry’s Firebolt to the dungeons where, it was rumored, Professor Umbridge had set an armed security troll to guard it. However, her troubles were far from over.

Inspired by Fred and George’s example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. In spite of the new door, somebody managed to slip a hairy-snouted niffler into Professor Umbridge’s office, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny objects, leapt on Professor Umbridge on her reentrance, and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stinkpellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh clean air, even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.

Ursula, as it happened, knew for a fact that it was Lee who had slipped the niffler in, by levitating him through the window. She was certain it was him because she was the one who had borrowed the niffler from Hagrid and given it to him. She was eventually called to remove it, and the second the niffler was in Ursula’s hands he calmed down.

Filch prowled the corridors with a horsewhip ready in his hands, desperate to catch miscreants, but the problem was that there were now so many of them that he did not know which way to turn. The Inquisitorial Squad were ‘attempting’ to help him, but barely a quarter of them actually cared, and odd things kept happening to those who did. Jacob Selwyn reported to the hospital wing with a horrible skin complaint that made him look as though he had been coated in cornflakes. Pansy Parkinson missed all her lessons the following day, as she had sprouted antlers.

Meanwhile it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Professor Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers, or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering “Umbridge-itis.” After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating, and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves. By the time the seventh years had Defense Against the Dark Arts, there were only a handful of Slytherins and the odd Ravenclaw in attendance.

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with that master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred’s parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, and toppling statues and vases. Twice he shut Mrs. Norris inside suits of armor, from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. He smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows, flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Professor Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her. Indeed, a week after Fred and George’s departure Ursula witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier, and could have sworn he heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, “It unscrews the other way.”

Ursula had been instructed by Professor McGonagall to only enforce the school rules when there was a visible culprit, meaning the prefects could barely do anything to stop the chaos, not that any of them tried very hard. There were even instances where they themselves were the culprits, such as when Cassius, with Ursula’s help, stuck all of Professor Umbridge’s furniture to the ceiling or when Lewis, the Head Boy, furious that they still had yet to perform a single spell in class despite their NEWTs being just weeks away, made it rain in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, something that Professor Umbridge hours to fix.

To cap matters, Graham Montague had still not recovered from his sojourn in the toilet. He remained confused and disorientated and his parents were to be observed one Tuesday morning striding up the front drive, looking extremely angry.

Adrian was just as upset, but not because he cared a great deal about Montague. Rather, the Slytherin versus Hufflepuff match was to take place the following weekend, and he was so determined to win that he had begun waking the team up at absurd hours of the morning so they could practice, then forcing them to return to the pitch late at night.

Ursula and Cassius knew better than to complain, as they knew how much was riding on their success in the match. Ursula even got a potion from Blossom to help Cassius stay awake in the mornings. At night, after even Gemma had gone to bed, Ursula was still awake, finishing her homework until her hands cramped. It was worth it, though. Ursula had no doubt that she would’ve done it for another week, or another month, or even longer, to see Adrian’s face when they won the match.

Slytherin played Hufflepuff on a perfect spring day, the best weather they could have for Quidditch. As they walked onto the pitch to the roaring applause of their fellow Slytherins, Ursula looked across at the yellow-robed players and felt an odd jolt of longing in her stomach, though it took her a moment to figure out why.

Cedric. Cedric should be here. This should’ve been his last game.

Hufflepuff’s seeker, Steven Summerby, was nothing like Cedric, which was a good thing, as Ursula could take her mind off him more easily. Adrian and Elizabeth Barrett, the Hufflepuff captain, shook hands, and Ursula mounted her broom as Madam Hooch prepared to blow her whistle.

“You ready?” called Cassius.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” called back Ursula. “Adrian?”

“Let’s do this,” he said, as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked off from the ground.

It was a tight game, but eventually, Slytherin pulled ahead. Marcellus and Edmund played their very best, guarding their teammates from Bludgers and aiming well at the Hufflepuff chasers. Guinevere pulled through, saving nearly two thirds of the shots on the Slytherin goalposts. Best of all, Adrian, Ursula, and Cassius were on point, playing better than they ever had before.

All those early mornings and late nights of practice paid off, as they scored one goal after another, working together seamlessly, masterfully, to give Slytherin a sizable lead by the time Draco spotted the Snitch.

“And it’s Pucey — Black — Warrington — back to Pucey, who dodges a Bludger from Graham, enters the scoring goal and — he scores!” said Lee. “Ash with the Quaffle, pass to Scamander, who tosses back to Ash — intercepted by Black!”

Ursula grinned at Blossom as she snatched the Quaffle away and soared down the pitch, passing neatly to Adrian, who passed back to her as she swerved left to dodge a Bludger. Ursula hadn’t realized just how much she loved Quidditch, with the wind in her hair and the Quaffle tucked under one arm. It was exhilarating.

She threw the Quaffle, sending it through the right hoop as the keeper, Miles Sloper, dove and missed.

“The Quaffle is taken by Holmes — she passes to Scamander — now Ash, who dodges a Bludger from Urquhart — she’s near the goal now — she shoots — damn, saved by Derrick,” said Lee with clear bias in his voice. “Derrick passes to Black, who passes to Warrington — Bludger to the shoulder from Barrett, but it didn’t seem to phase him — he didn’t even flinch. Warrington takes it like a man and passes back to Black — she passes to Pucey — and Pucey scores…”

The Slytherins had a commanding lead, but they still needed Draco to get the Snitch. Unfortunately, Summerby had seen it and went rocketing up with his broom.

“Malfoy!” bellowed Adrian, wheeling around, not caring that the Quaffle had been taken by Maya Holmes of Hufflepuff. “You two, get a Bludger up there!”

Marcellus answered Adrian’s commands with a mighty swing of his bat, which connected to a Bludger with a loud crack and sent it rocketing straight towards Summerby.

“Summerby’s seen the Snitch, he’s definitely seen the Snitch, Hufflepuff still has a chance,” narrated Lee at top speed. “But here comes Malfoy, right on his tail — a Bludger from Warrington, dodge, Summerby, dodge — OUCH! Summerby’s just taken a Bludger to the face, it probably broke his nose and nearly took him off his broom — not at all like Warrington, eh? — bloody hell, that’s what Summerby’s thinking, as Malfoy has caught the Snitch. Slytherin wins!”

Lee’s less than enthusiastic announcement was drowned out by a wave of noise that rose from the Slytherins, who all jumped to their feet and cheered as their team did a victory lap around the pitch, with Adrian in the lead.

They landed amid raucous cheers and thunderous applause, as their fellow Slytherins flooded onto the pitch. Adrian hugged Ursula, picking her up and swinging her around in celebration, then chest bumped Cassius. Lilian was among the first to reach the field, and she hugged Adrian in congratulations. Ursula was congratulated by so many people that her ears rang.

“How much did getting hit by that Bludger hurt?” she said to Cassius, as Adrian was pulled aside by a brawny, bearded man.

“You have no idea,” he muttered, wincing as he moved his arm. “But it was worth it.”

Ursula followed his gaze high up into the stands, where she spotted Hadrian, seated a row behind Professor Umbridge, turning to leave. Visitors were allowed to come to the matches on occasion, usually parents and family, so he must have lied and said he was there to watch Ursula.

“Whatever you say, loverboy,” she said to Cassius with a smirk.

“I did it!” said Adrian, running back over to them. “I made it, I’m on the team!”

“Congratulations!” said Ursula, clapping. In the next second Cassius had picked Adrian up and hoisted him onto his shoulder. His brother ran over so they were carrying Adrian between them, parading him around in victory.

There was quite a party in the Slytherin common room that night. Everyone wanted to celebrate their win, as it made them most likely to win the Quidditch Cup, and the news that Adrian had been signed as a reserve chaser for the Appleby Arrows spread like wildfire. Ursula had to stop Cassius from bringing in Firewhiskey, but she did tell him how to find the kitchens, so he and his brother brought crates of butterbeer back to the common room.

Adrian had a good long victory snog with Guinevere Derrick, though they weren’t about to start dating. The Slytherins celebrated long into the night, with the younger students only going to bed when they could no longer stand straight for their exhaustion. The older students, used to all-nighters, had a much higher tolerance for partying. Lilian, who got really giggly on her fourth butterbeer, pulled Ursula into her empty dorm.

“You’ve been extra happy lately,” she mumbled. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” said Ursula.

“You keep smiling to yourself,” said Lilian, giggling. “I want to know what’s making you happy.”

“Lils, I think you’re tipsy,” said Ursula.

“Maybe, but you still have to tell me,” said Lilian, tugging on Ursula’s arm. “Come on, tell me.”

“Fine. I may have… possibly… kissed Fred,” said Ursula. Lilian shrieked so loud that Ursula had to shush her for fear of the students partying in the common room hearing.

“Fred? Fred Weasley?” she squealed. “Finally! Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? Tell me everything!”

Ursula laughed.

“It just sort of… happened,” she said. Lilian shook her head.

“Ursula, babe, you and I both know that’s not a good enough answer,” she said.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll tell you,” said Ursula. She explained how Fred had come into the library to hide and how they had ended up kissing, with Lilian sighing for emphasis.

“And right before he left, too! Oh, that’s so romantic,” she gushed. “You have to see him again once we graduate. Promise me.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Ursula. Lilian shook her head.

“No, that’s not good enough. Promise me you’ll see him again.”

“Alright, I promise I’ll do my best to see him again,” said Ursula. “Satisfied?”

“If I have to be,” said Lilian. She grabbed Ursula’s arm and led her back out to the party, which was still going strong as they neared one am.

“Snape!” shouted fifth year Cillian O’Hara, who was keeping watch.

At once the Slytherins scrambled, vanishing empty bottles or hiding them in their rooms, going into dorms that weren’t even theirs to hide. Ursula and Gemma ran and grabbed some unfinished homework, spreading it out over separate tables to make it look like they were working. A few other students, for whom it would be believable that they were up this late, also set up desks to look busy. By the time Professor Snape came through the stone passageway, the common room was silent, clean, and empty, save for a handful of diligent, tired students.

His black eyes surveyed them one by one, but not one of them was about to give up the game. They looked up when he entered, trying to look like his arrival was unexpected, and waited for him to speak.

“Carry on,” he said in a low voice. Then he turned and swept back from the passageway.

The Slytherins carried on the charade for ten full minutes, until they were sure Professor Snape had gone. They even sent Arthur Burke out to check. Then, when they were sure he had gone, they put their homework away and carried on with newfound enthusiasm.

Ursula and her friends were the last awake as everyone else drifted off to bed an hour or so later. They sat together on the couch, yawning and sipping butterbeer, leaning on each other’s shoulders. Adrian had not stopped smiling all evening.

“I did it,” he kept saying to himself. “I did it.”

“A toast, I think, is in order!” said Ursula. “And then —” She paused to yawn. “— bed.”

“Yes, a toast sounds great,” said Vanessa. Lilian just giggled and then hiccuped.

“To Adrian, the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts!” said Ursula, raising her bottle. The others echoed the toast, downing the last swallows of butterbeer, and got up, wandering off to bed, tired but happy.

~~~

As May came to an end, with some classes speeding by and others — namely, Defense Against the Dark Arts — crawling by, the seventh years hurried to submit their applications on time. Adrian was set, and had no need to apply for an office job, but the others rushed around, collecting letters of recommendation from their favorite professors.

Cassius had received news from his father that he was to work as an assistant for Corban Yaxley, but that he still needed to fill out an application for the job. Much to his chagrin, this required getting a letter of recommendation from Professor Umbridge, who wrote him one easily. Ursula also received one from her, although she had not asked for it and did not use it. Cassius also got a letter from Professor Flitwick, who called him the finest Charms student he had had in a long time.

Lilian easily secured her letter of recommendation from Professor Burbage, mailing off applications for three different Ministry positions all to do with Muggles. She had to fill out a little survey for one of them, all about how much she knew about Muggles and what she thought of them. Now all she had to do was wait anxiously to hear if she had been accepted. She knew — they all did — that they wouldn’t find out until after their exams, but that didn’t stop them from being incredibly anxious every time the mail arrived during breakfast.

Vanessa initially didn’t fill out any applications, sticking to her wish to become a housewife. In the end, however, she applied to the healer training program at St. Mungo’s, though she was clear to her friends that she probably wouldn’t go even if she got in.

Of all of Ursula’s friends, Blossom’s applications were the hardest to fill out, simply because she had to get a letter of recommendation from Professor Snape. No matter where she applied, she needed a letter of recommendation from her Potions teacher; she couldn’t get into the Academy of Apprentice Potioneers without it. Most surprisingly, Professor Snape grudgingly accepted, and only because Blossom was without a doubt the top student in his NEWT class.

There were a whole host of things Ursula had to fill out for her application to the Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary, most of them wavers about safety concerns and the like. She needed not one, not two, but three letters of recommendation to apply and some level of previous experience working with magical creatures outside of school, which she had from her internship at the thunderbird sanctuary. Ursula attached her letter from the internship’s director, Amelia Kelley, plus one from Hagrid, as he was her Care of Magical Creatures professor, and Professor McGonagall, as she knew Ursula best.

Ursula applied to a handful of other places as well, knowing she had only a slim chance of getting into the dragon sanctuary, but with not nearly as much enthusiasm. She had also decided on a Transfigurer she wanted to apprentice, one of the many who had written to her on Professor McGonagall’s behalf; she had agreed to shadow Philippa Talbot, an elderly witch with a practical approach to her work that Ursula thought sounded perfect.

Speaking of Care of Magical Creatures, it was very odd, now that the class had shrunk by half since Fred and George left. During their first lesson without the twins, they were both a bit frosty and standoffish, just as they had been before, but without the twins as a buffer. By the second lesson, however, they had begun to form a strange sort of almost-friendship with one another.

“So, er, I heard you’re going into healing,” said Ursula, as they dealt with a swarm of Glumbumbles, which were creatures rather like a bee, except they were grey and furry.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right,” said Rue. “And you’re, uh, going to work with dragons?”

Ursula nodded.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “Well, good luck on your application.”

“Er — you too,” said Rue.

Hagrid had only a few creatures left to show them, now that they were seventh years with only a few weeks left of school and all, so most of the time they spent reviewing, which means Hagrid would bring in a creature like a knarl, niffler, or hippogriff, and let Ursula and Rue care for it, with little instruction on his part to show they already knew how. Ursula’s favorite, after the hippogriffs, were the nifflers, but they proved to be quite challenging to catch.

“Come back here!” said Ursula, trying to trap one and missing. Rue was having the same problem, as she tried to get one of the nifflers back into the crate without any luck.

“You — bloody — get back!” she shouted.

“I’ve got it!” said Ursula. She reached into her bag and pulled out one of the gold rings Hadrian had given to her. Immediately the niffler she had been trying to catch ran over, as did Rue’s loose niffler.

“Shame we didn’t think of that soner,” said Rue, panting.

“Yeah,” said Ursula. “What were we running around for?”

She and Rue both laughed.

“Er — are you sure you don’t want your ring back?” said Rue, as the nifflers were still playing with it. Ursula shook her head.

“In a minute,” she said, smiling as the nifflers played. “This little guy likes it more than I do.”

In the midst of frantically scrambling to prepare for their NEWTs, submit their applications on time, and, quite frankly, prepare to leave Hogwarts, Ursula celebrated her eighteenth birthday on a sunny Tuesday, when she and her friends could study outside in the shade of a large beech tree before she and Cassius attended a midnight Astronomy class. That weekend, they also had a Hogsmeade visit, the second to last they would ever have at school.

“Don’t you look snazzy today,” said Ursula to Gemma, as she put on her pearl necklace and picked out earrings to match her pale blue dress.

“Why thank you,” said Gemma, who was wearing a business suit. “Didn’t I tell you? I have an interview today with the head of the Legislative Department in the International Magical Office of Law.”

“Wow. Good luck, I really hope it goes well,” said Ursula, as they headed out of the dorm.

“Thanks,” said Gemma, taking a deep breath. “Are you meeting Hadrian?”

Ursula nodded. They met up with Lilian and Vanessa in the common room, and the four of them headed up to the Great Hall.

“Hadrian and I are going to walk around for a bit, then go to the Three Broomsticks,” she said. “He said in his letter that he had news, but he didn’t say what it was.”

“Good news or bad?” said Lilian.

“Hopefully not too bad,” Ursula replied.

“I wish I had someone to go on a date with,” said Vanessa. “Ever since Jacob and I broke up…”

The other three groaned.

“How many times, you’re better off without him,” said Gemma, rolling her eyes.

“Fine, but for our last Hogsmeade trip we should go together,” said Vanessa. “We can make it a girls’ trip.”

“Plus Cassius and Adrian,” said Lilian.

“Yes, a girls’ trip plus Cassius and Adrian,” agreed Vanessa with a giggle.

Despite the blue sky and warm weather, Ursula’s mood immediately changed when she saw Hadrian waiting for her. She could tell immediately that his news was not good in the slightest.

“I found something out,” he said in a low voice. Ursula gripped his arm and steered him up the street.

“Let’s walk,” she muttered. “So? What is it?”

“After the article came out, the Ministry raided our house,” said Hadrian grimly. “Before you ask, no, they didn’t find anything Dark enough to arrest my father for; I suspect someone tipped him off. The real trouble is that ever since then, he’s been hosting… meetings. Death Eater meetings.”

“I see,” said Ursula. “Well, that’s nothing too —”

“He made me go to one.”

Ursula stopped in her tracks, pulling Hadrian into a side alley. He had deep bags under his eyes and his face was set into a frown.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn’t there,” continued Hadrian. “But there were so many others — your uncle, a few of the escapees including my uncle. They all greeted me as if it was exactly where I should be. I’m scared, Ursula.”

“Oh.” Ursula gulped, startled by his distressing news. “I’m sorry Hadrian, I have to ask: what did you find out from the meeting?”

Hadrian sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“I wasn’t there for all of it — I got home late — but they were talking about the Department of Mysteries,” he said. “That man who was killed by the Devil’s Snare in St. Mungo’s — Bode — they got some kind of information from him. Mostly they mapped out what was in the Department of Mysteries. They focused on this one room, the Veil, in particular. Bode’s job was studying the Veil.”

“What does the Veil do?” asked Ursula.

“I don’t know, exactly,” said Hadrian, “but I know it has something to do with death. They call it the Death Veil.”

A shiver went down Ursula’s spine.

“I’m just —” Hadrian took a sharp intake of breath. “I’m just so scared of what will happen when I — when he makes me —”

“I’ll be there,” said Ursula. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

She let Hadrian cry into her shoulder for a moment, which was difficult because he was so much taller than she was.

“What if I told you I had contacts on the…  _ other _ … side,” she said slowly.

“The  _ other _ side?” said Hadrian, with a sniffle.

“The  _ other _ side,” confirmed Ursula, and they nodded in sync. They both knew she couldn’t be more specific than that, just in case. “Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, that I knew someone who could use what you’ve learned against the people you’ve learned it from. Would you be able to continue to tell me what goes on, so I can share any important information?”

“I would,” said Hadrian carefully. “After all, I have no way of knowing who these contacts are, or if they even really exist, or what you consider ‘important information.’”

“Of course not. How could you know?” said Ursula. “Now, perhaps we should talk about  _ Pure Commité _ . It seems as if we both have developments.”

“If and when I am asked to more meetings, I’ll be sure to let you know,” said Hadrian. With a shaky breath, he added, “As soon as you graduate, we’ll have to practice acting the couple again.”

“Agreed,” said Ursula. “Which brings me to my development. I… kissed Fred Weasley.”

Hadrian gasped.

“You did?” he said. “Good for you!”

Ursula laughed; both of their moods lightened at once.

“But that means that you have to be extra careful not to be seen in public,” said Hadrian.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, loverboy?” teased Ursula. “But yes, in all seriousness, we’ll have to be even more careful.”

“Does Weasley know about us?”

Ursula considered for a moment. Now that she thought about it, she had no idea what Fred knew.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But I’d imagine he suspected something, or else he wouldn’t have kissed me.”

“Mmhm,” said Hadrian. “Come on; let’s get a drink. All this news and gossip is exhausting.”

~~~

The only thing that stood between Slytherin and the Quidditch Cup was Gryffindor’s match against Ravenclaw in the third week of May. This left the Slytherins feeling extremely confident, as the Gryffindor’s keeper, Ron Weasley, had had an abysmal performance so far.

The day of the match was warm and clear, and the excitable crowd had filled the stands by midmorning. The atmosphere was largely anti-Gryffindor, which Ursula supposed was a fine change from being anti-Slytherin, as none of the houses wanted Gryffindor to win, although largely because they doubted they could. Ursula and her friends sat deep in the Slytherin sections of the stands, looking forward to the last game of the season, and indeed their time at Hogwarts, although the teams, particularly Gryffindor, looked starkly different than what they were used to, now that Fred and George were gone.

Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since Fred and George had left, was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out onto the pitches he named the players with something less than his usual gusto.

“… Bailey… Davies… Chang… Fenharrow… Foxx… Lewis… Moon,” he said. Lilian whistled in support of her sister.

“And they’re off!” said Lee. “And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well… He’s going straight for goal! He’s going to shoot — and — and —” Lee swore very loudly. “And he’s scored.”

Predictably, a great many of the Slytherins began to sing with gusto:

_ Weasley cannot save a thing, _

_ He cannot block a single ring… _

“Johnson has the Quaffle — passes to Bell — dodges Moon — Bludger from Foxx — damn, blocked by Lewis,” said Lee. “Ravenclaw in possession, Moon to Fenharrow, Fenharrow to Davies — no Bludgers in sight — Davies back to Moon… he approaches the goal,  _ come on Ron _ ! Yes! YES! Yes, I don’t believe it, he’s saved it!”

A roar so loud it shook the stands went up from the Gryffindors, who hadn’t been expecting it.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” said Cassius.

Ron’s newfound abilities, however, didn’t end there. By the end of the game, Ravenclaw had scored only three more goals, while Gryffindor had scored a neat dozen and Ron had saved as much. To cap it all off, Ginny caught the Snitch right under Cho Chang’s nose.

“No!” shouted Adrian, devastated, as Gryffindor’s huge margin of victory meant they won the Quidditch Cup. His cry was drowned out by the thunderous cheers from the Gryffindor side of the stands, which included a great many Hufflepuffs who had since switched sides.

The Ravenclaw team landed, visibly angry, with Cho chucking her broom to the ground, while the Gryffindors were met with roaring applause, their fans flooding onto the pitch and hoisting Ron, the key to their victory onto their many shoulders. The last blow to the Slytherins came when a great cheer rose up from the red and gold crowd, with some very familiar lyrics:

_ Weasley is our King, _

_ Weasley is our King, _

_ He didn’t let the Quaffle in, _

_ Weasley is our King. _

_ Weasley can save anything, _

_ He never leaves a single ring _

_ That’s why Gryffindors all sing: _

_ Weasley is our King. _

Adrian and the other Slytherins watched hollowly as Professor McGonagall tearfully presented Ron and the other Gryffindors with the silver Quidditch Cup.

“This fucking sucks,” said Adrian, as they left the pitch, his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

“We still won our game,” said Ursula.

“Yeah, and you were still recruited,” said Cassius. “But damn… I really wish we could’ve won.”

The others nodded, similarly disappointed.

“I mean, where has that talent been all season?” continued Cassius. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone was impersonating him.”

Had the Slytherins not built up what they thought was their impending victory so much, the loss wouldn’t have stung so hard. It hurt largely because it was their last chance. That said, they had still won two out of their three games and Adrian’s dream was coming to fruition, so their disappointment didn’t last, helped by the much more important things they had to focus on.

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: May was over, but to the seventh years this meant only one thing: Their NEWTs were upon them at last.

Every class period was devoted to review, creating a purposeful, feverish atmosphere. With Quidditch over, their exams were the only thing left before the year’s end, and tempers were on edge as emotions and anxiety ran high among the fifth and seventh years. Ursula had to break up four duels in as many days, all started over incorrect answers, and she was confiscating potions and powders sold to gullible students at such a high rate she could have had a flourishing trade of her own. The black-market trade in aids to concentration, mental agility, and wakefulness worked on some of the fifth years and only the most foolish seventh years.

They received their examination schedules and details of the procedure for their NEWTs during their second to last Transfiguration lesson, which was six days before their first examination. Ursula copied down the parts of the schedule that applied to her, which was most of it.

_ Monday, June 3rd: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Herbology, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Herbology, practical _

_ Wednesday, June 5th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Potions, written _

_ 1:00-4:00 — Potions, practical _

_ Thursday, June 6th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Astronomy, written _

_ 1:00-4:00 — History of Magic, written _

_ 12:00-2:00 — Astronomy, practical _

_ Friday, June 7th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Charms, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Charms, practical _

_ Monday, June 10th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Care of Magical Creatures, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Care of Magical Creatures, practical _

_ Tuesday, June 11th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Defense Against the Dark Arts, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Defense Against the Dark Arts, practical _

_ Wednesday, June 12th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Alchemy, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Alchemy, practical _

_ Thursday, June 13th: _

_ 9:00-11:00 — Transfiguration, written _

_ 1:00-3:00 — Transfiguration, practical _

_ Friday, June 14th: _

_ 1:00-4:00 — Ancient Runes, written _

“Just like your OWLs, your NEWTs are spread over two successive weeks,” Professor McGonagall told the class while they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard. “You will sit the theory exams in the morning and the practical exam in the afternoon, with the exception of History of Magic, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, all of which are only written exams, and Divination, which is over two days instead of one. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night.”

Ursula absentmindedly scribbled an answer to one of her Transfiguration letters onto a scrap of parchment while Professor McGonagall was talking.

“As a reminder, the most stringent Anti-Cheating Charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs, and Self-Correcting Ink. I expect that all of you, as seventh years, understand the importance of taking your exams as seriously as possible. Our new headmistress —” Professor McGonagall pronounced the word with the same look on her face that Narcissa had when a dish was dirty. “— has asked the Heads of House to tell their students that cheating will be punished most severely — because, of course, your examination results will reflect upon the headmistress’s new regime at the school…”

Professor McGonagall gave a tiny sigh. Ursula saw the nostrils of her sharp nose flare.

“However, that is no reason not to do your very best. You have your own futures to think about.”

“Please, Professor,” said Gemma, her hand in the air, “when will we find out our results?”

“Unlike with your OWLs, you will find out your NEWT scores in the week following your examinations,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please leave a list with your Head of House of all the places you have applied to, so that we may send along your scores for you.”

“Professor?” said Blossom, raising her hand. “When will we find out whether we’ve been accepted or not?”

“That may vary. The majority of you will find out before graduation,” said Professor McGonagall, “but of course it depends on where you applied and the job you applied for. It may be well into July for some of you before you secure a position, but that is standard. Any other questions?”

“About how long should each practical exam take, Professor?” asked Jasper Clarke.

“Though it varies by class, all of your practical exams should take around ten minutes, with the exception of Care of Magical Creatures, which may take up to an hour, and Potions, Astronomy, and Alchemy in which you will have the full time to complete the task,” said Professor McGonagall.

When there were no further questions she proceeded onto the lesson, which was a whole load of review stretching all the way back to their first year. She handed back their most recent mock written exams with the grades they would have gotten if they were really taking their NEWTs. Then when the bell rang, they all went off to lunch.

A great many of the seventh years had been acting oddly, now that their NEWTs were at hand. Gemma muttered constantly under her breath, though often silently, while Lilian would repeatedly arrange and then rearrange her quills or her books or her notes, for she could not focus unless everything was just right. Cassius just looked faintly ill all the time from internalizing the stress, and Ursula found herself constantly reviewing in her head, even in normal conversations, so when Vanessa asked her to pass the lamb chops at dinner, Ursula replied by describing the wand movement necessary to create water.

They were far from the only people acting strange. A number of students among their year had to be sent to Madam Pomfrey for Calming Draughts, with two fainters, Patricia Stimpson among them. Others, like Edward Barnes, had developed an irritating habit of interrogating people about their study habits and then boasting about his own.

Ursula once caught Draco bragging that it was  _ who _ you knew, not  _ what _ you knew, and she proceeded to lecture him for a full half hour on the importance of doing well on his OWLs while rewriting a Charms essay.

As their NEWTs drew ever nearer, Ursula decided it was time to hold the final League of Laurels meeting, as she was simply too consumed in studying to go on.

“I would like to thank you all for coming so diligently and for some of you, for so many years,” she said. “This will be the last League of Laurels meeting. I am not disbanding the league, but it is up to the particularly overachieving among you to decide to start it up again next year. For our final lesson, I have one more spell to teach you all, and then you may practice what you like.”

She taught them the kneecap-reversal jinx, using a dummy to practice on, of course, and then let them do as they please.

“Look at that. We made it all the way to seventh year without anyone revealing the league,” said Cassius. “You didn’t even have to jinx the contracts.”

Ursula laughed.

“Of course I jinxed the contracts,” she said. “Are you mad?”

“You what?” chorsued Lilian and Adrian.

“I jinxed the contracts,” Ursula repeated.

“But you swore you didn’t!” said Lilian.

“What would’ve happened if someone had revealed the league?” said Adrian.

“Oh, nothing much, it would conceal all evidence that the league ever existed,” said Ursula. “Oh, and give you boils. I may have added a Stinging Jinx, but I can’t remember.”

“Remind me never to cross you,” muttered Cassius.

On their last weekend before their exams, the seventh years headed outside, spreading a large picnic blanket under a shady beech tree so they could spread out as they studied. Ursula had received a letter of well wishes from her father, which she kept tucked into her favorite Transfiguration book. Lilian stopped fellow Slytherin seventh year Philip Carlyle and asked him to take pictures of the group using her Muggle camera, and then several more where the pictures would actually move.

The Slytherin common room was silent Sunday afternoon, as demanded by Ursula and the rest of the seventh years. Students not about to take their OWLs or NEWTs were either told to stay in their dormitories or go to the library, and they complied easily, because no one wanted to get on the bad side of Ursula or Cassius. Lilian reread three years’ worth of Charms notes, her lips moving soundlessly, while Cassius was flat on his back on the floor, doing sit-ups to see his notes. Eventually he rolled over and began to do push-ups, claiming it helped him remember better. Adrian and Vanessa were practicing nonverbal spells in the corner, while Gemma and Ursula read so fast their eyes were almost blurry.

More than a few books were propped up against glasses at dinner that night, causing more than a few goblets spilled. Then they returned once again to the common room. Once again, silence was demanded and strictly enforced, and when Ursula finally went off to bed, she could hardly sleep for all the thoughts running around inside her head.

None of the seventh years talked very much at breakfast the next day. Ursula and Lilian, with Cassius’s help, passed out flowers to the fifth and seventh years, just as they had in fifth year. Once breakfast was over, the fifth and seventh years milled around in the entrance hall while the other students went off to lessons. Then, shortly before nine, the seventh years were called to enter the chamber just off the Great Hall, where more than thirty desks had been arranged, already set with their exam papers. At the front of the room, Professor Sprout stood, ready to administer their Herbology NEWT.

“You have two hours,” she said, turning over the enormous hourglass sitting on the desk beside her. “You may begin.”

~~~

“One down, a million to go,” said Lilian cheerfully as they left the chamber two hours later.

“It could’ve gone better,” said Gemma.

“I’m sure you did great,” said Ursula. “Herbology is my worst subject.”

“By worst, you mean the one you only do well at, not exceed,” teased Vanessa.

The four girls headed down to the Slytherin common room, where Cassius and Adrian were waiting for them, as they had dropped Herbology after their OWLs.

“How was it?” asked Adrian.

“It went well for me, at least,” said Lilian, flopping into a chair.

“I hadn’t realized how  _ hard _ these tests were going to be,” acknowledged Vanessa. The others agreed with tired sighs.

“I’m so glad I dropped Herbology,” said Cassius. “It’s a waste of time.”

“It is  _ not _ ,” said Lilian, smacking him lightly on the arm. “Well, it may be for  _ you _ , but not for the rest of us.”

“The Herbology practical is the worst,” said Ursula. “I like spells; I’m good at spells. I’m  _ not _ good at dealing with a Venomous Tentacula.”

“And we can’t swear in front of the examiners,” said Lilian.

Lilian, as it happened, had no need to swear during her practical exam, as she came out of it grinning and looking rather satisfied with herself. Ursula felt confident that she had done well, certainly enough to pass, but likely not enough to secure an O.

Ursula and the others spent all of Tuesday studying, while Lilian took her Muggle Studies exam. They had no idea what constituted the practical portion of the exam, but Lilian had gone on and on about pulleys and electricity and all sorts of things like that. Then, on Wednesday, all of them but Vanessa sat their Potions exam, one of the hardest NEWTs of them all.

That said, it was far easier to concentrate without Professor Snape glowering at them. The sixteen seventh years in NEWT Potions had two hours for their written exam and then, in the afternoon, three hours to brew the Draught of Living Death. Ursula’s concoction turned a pale, shimmering lavender, and then perfectly clear just as the examiner called time. Blossom was practically glowing as they left the dungeon classroom, having full confidence in her potion.

On Thursday, Ursula and Cassius had Astronomy in the morning, then she and Gemma had their three hour History of Magic exam in the afternoon, and then she and Cassius had to climb up to the Astronomy Tower at midnight, where they had two hours to fill in the blank star charts they had been given, as well as diagram the planets.

It was a perfect night for stargazing, cloudless and still. The grounds were bathed in silvery moonlight, and there was a slight chill in the air. Each of them set up his or her telescope and, when Professor Sabilline gave the word, proceeded to fill in the blank star chart he or she had been given.

Professors Sabilline and Clements strolled among them, watching as they entered the precise positions of the stars and planets they were observing. All was quiet except for the rustle of parchment, the occasional creak of a telescope as it was adjusted on its stand, and the scribbling of many quills. Half an hour passed, then an hour; the little squares of reflected gold light flickering on the ground below had long since vanished as lights in the castle windows were extinguished.

“Fifteen minutes left!” called Professor Clements, making Ursula jump. She pressed her eye to her telescope one more time, to check she had all of the constellations positioned just right.

When time was called, she and Cassius packed up their telescopes and headed down, down, down the many stairs into the dungeons, absolutely exhausted. Thankfully, there were no better students at Charms in their year than the two of them, so they had little to worry about with the next day’s exams.

Indeed, Friday’s Charms NEWT went well all around, as Ursula and her friends, with the exception of Adrian, stepped into and out of the hall feeling as if they had done very well. They spent most of Saturday and Sunday studying for their second week of exams, and Ursula and her friends, and indeed most of the seventh years, got Monday off, while Ursula and Rue sat alone in the chamber off the hall, occupying just two out of the forty something available desks, their quills scratching away as they took the written portion of their Care of Magical Creatures exam.

“Time’s up!” called their examiner, Professor Wigram. Ursula and Rue got up, handed in their papers, and left.

“How did that go for you?” asked Ursula.

“Pretty well, I think,” said Rue, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“It went good,” said Ursula.

“Good luck, er, on the practical,” said Rue.

“You too,” replied Ursula.

The written exam had gone exceptionally well, but for Ursula, the practical exam went even better. Her examiner, a middle-aged wizard named Thaddeus Saxon who had a hearty laugh, was beaming by the time she finished. She had dealt with so many of her favorite creatures, including but not limited to nifflers, thestrals, and of course hippogriffs, and she felt confident enough to say she had secured an ‘Outstanding.’

On Tuesday, they all had their Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWT, and Ursula took particular pride in seeing her classmates excel at the practical portion of the exam, both the ones she had taught in the League of Laurels and the ones in the DA. Ursula’s Alchemy exam on Wednesday was the hardest she had taken so far. Lilian got a day off while the others sweated and struggled through the daunting practical.

Ursula hadn’t taken a day off of prefect patrol, which was probably a mistake, as she was doing two days a week to cover the day that should have been Cedric’s, so on Wednesday night she and Cassius ambled around the castle for a while. Since everyone was busy studying, they didn’t catch or pass a single student in the hallway, save for the other prefects who were patrolling, fifth year Hufflepuffs Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan.

Eventually she and Cassius stopped walking and sat in an alcove, agreeing to sit and stare out the window until their patrol was over as they were both too tired to keep walking. Unfortunately, they were so tired that they ended up falling asleep, with Ursula’s head on Cassius’s shoulder and his back pressed against the cold glass.

Ursula awoke first, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the dark castle. Squinting, she looked at Cassius’s watch, and saw that it was past midnight. She laughed.

“Cass. Cassius, wake up,” she said. “Cass, wake up. We fell asleep patrolling.”

“Wh-What?” said Cassius, with an enormous yawn. “How embarrassing.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” said Ursula with a giggle. Cassius agreed, yawning again and stretching, but her smile died as she looked out the window over his shoulder. “Cass. Cass, look.”

“What is it?” said Cassius, squinting out into the darkness.

They could barely make out half a dozen figures walking over the lawn. If they had not been moving, and the moonlight had not been gilding the tops of their heads, they would have been indistinguishable from the dark ground on which they stood. Even at this distance, Ursula had a funny feeling that she recognized the walk of the squattest among them, who seemed to be leading the group.

Ursula could not think why Professor Umbridge would be taking a stroll outside past midnight, much less accompanied by five others. This was bad. Whatever she was doing — this was bad. She and Cassius watched, the only sound around them their own breathing, as Professor Umbridge approached Hagrid’s cabin, where the lights were on. A distant knock echoed through the deserted grounds, followed immediately by the muffled barking of a large dog.

The people they had observed crossing the lawn were now silhouetted against Hagrid’s lit windows. The door opened and Ursula distinctly saw six tiny but sharply defined figures walk over the threshold. The door closed again and there was silence.

“What the hell is she doing?” muttered Cassius.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” said Ursula.

A roar from Hagrid’s cabin echoed through the darkness and they both stiffened, looking back outside at once. Suddenly, there was a loud  _ BANG _ from the grounds.

Hagrid’s door had burst open and by the light flooding out of the cabin they saw him quite clearly, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists, surrounded by six people, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they were casting in his direction, seemed to be attempting to Stun him.

“Merlin’s beard,” swore Ursula.

Jets of red light were still flying beside Hagrid’s cabin, all bouncing off of him. He was still upright and still, as far as Ursula could see, fighting. Cries and yells echoed across the grounds; a man yelled, “Be reasonable, Hagrid!” and Hagrid roared, “Reasonable be damned, yeh won’ take me like this, Dawlish!”

“She wanted to fire him,” whispered Ursula. “Quietly, not like Professor Trelawney. Or arrest him, if that went wrong.”

She could see the tiny outline of Fang, attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping at the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell caught him and he fell to the ground. Hagrid gave a howl of fury, lifted the culprit bodily from the ground, and threw him: the man flew what looked like ten feet and did not get up again.

“Look!” said Cassius urgently, his face pressed against the glass. He pointed to the foot of the castle where the front doors seemed to have opened again; more light had spilled out onto the dark lawn and a single long black shadow was now rippling across the lawn.

“How dare you!” the figure shouted as she ran towards Hagrid’s cabin. “How  _ dare _ you!”

“It’s Professor McGonagall!” said Ursula.

“Leave him alone! Alone, I say!” said Professor McGonagall’s voice through the darkness. “On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such —”

Ursula screamed. No fewer than four Stunners had shot from the figures around the cabin toward Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her. For a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Cassius.

“COWARDS!” bellowed Hagrid, his voice carrying clearly to the top of the tower, and several lights flickered back on inside the castle. “RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O’ THAT — AN’ THAT —”

Hagrid took two massive swipes at his closest attackers; judging by their immediate collapse, they had been knocked cold. They saw him double over and thought for a moment that he had finally been overcome by a spell, but on the contrary, next moment Hagrid was standing again with what appeared to be a sack on his back — then Ursula realized that Fang’s limp body was draped around his shoulders.

“Get him, get him!” screamed Professor Umbridge, but her remaining helper seemed highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid’s fists. Indeed, he was backing away so fast he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and fell over. Hagrid had turned and begun to run with Fang still hung around his neck; Umbridge sent one last Stunning Spell after him but it missed, and Hagrid, running full-pelt toward the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

“Come on!” said Ursula, grabbing Cassius by the arm. There wasn’t a moment to waste as they ran down the stairs, quick as they could. They were on the fourth floor, but in no time they had reached the ground floor and were sprinting towards the Hospital Wing. “Madam Pomfrey!”

Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office, her brow furrowed. 

“What is it? Is someone hurt?” she said.

“It’s Professor McGonagall,” said Ursula. “Professor Umbridge went to fire Hagrid —”

“Or arrest him,” cut in Cassius.

“— and when she came out, Professor Umbridge’s goons Stunned her four times, right to the chest!” Ursula finished.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Madam Pomfrey.

“Quickly, she’s out on the lawn,” said Ursula.

Madam Pomfrey ran, and she and Cassius followed, their footsteps echoing in the darkened castle as they pelted towards the front doors. Professor Umbridge was evidently back inside already, but Professor McGonagall was still lying unconscious in the grass. Madam Pomfrey swore loudly, before conjuring a stretcher to carry Professor McGonagall. When they had all returned to the Hospital Wing, she sent Ursula and Cassius to bed, thanking them.

“Let’s get back before the Astronomy OWL ends,” murmured Cassius, as he and Ursula hurried down the stairs. “I suppose they’ve seen everything.”

“I’m glad they did. That evil woman!” said Ursula fiercely. “She’s vile. If she wasn’t before, she certainly is now. I mean, attacking Hagrid and  _ then _ Professor McGonagall! That’s a cowardly, underhanded,  _ evil _ thing to do!”

“You scare me sometimes,” said Cassius, before he said the password to the stone wall. The common room was empty, but Ursula had no doubt that once the fifth years returned it would be buzzing with talk, so she and Cassius said a quick goodnight before creeping into their respective rooms.

Ursula paced for some time, still fuming. She could hear the fifth years talking animatedly amongst themselves when they arrived a few minutes later. Ursula barely got any sleep that night, and spent perhaps too much of it plotting her revenge the next morning.

“Where are you going?” asked Gemma sleepily, as Ursula got dressed before six, running on barely four hours of sleep.

“I’m going for a walk before breakfast to clear my head,” said Ursula. “I want to be absolutely prepared for our Transfiguration NEWT today.”

Gemma nodded and rolled over to sleep a bit more. Ursula left the common room, heading outside onto the dewy front lawn and getting her broomstick from the shed where she had left it. Professor Umbridge’s office was on the second floor, so Ursula could’ve just levitated up what she needed to, but her revenge was a bit more complicated.

Ursula could tell Professor Umbridge hadn’t entered her office for the day, because the teapot was untouched. She opened the window and hopped inside, moving quickly so as not to get caught. She had picked the window precisely because Professor Umbridge had an intruder alarm on the door.

First Ursula did little things, like fill Professor Umbridge’s desk with frog spawn, replace her sugar with salt, and let Betelgeuse, whom she had carried with her, shred the carpet and the curtains. Then Ursula moved on to grander gestures, such as replacing all of Professor Umbridge’s kitten plates with pictures of rats, letting loose some of Fred and George’s Trumpeter Toads, and writing COWARD in huge red letters across the wall. Finally, in a move that would have made Fred and George proud, Ursula set up the Deflagration Deluxe fireworks under the desk, triggering them to go off when the office door opened.

Admiring her handiwork, Ursula scooped up Betelgeuse, climbed back out the window, and shut it behind her as she soared back down to the ground. She was back in her common room before too long, and got to hear the effect of her revenge along with everyone else when they headed to breakfast. Professor Umbridge’s shriek of horror and rage made Ursula smile.

“I wonder what’s set her off,” said Lilian with raised eyebrows.

“Whatever it was, she deserved it,” said Ursula dismissively. Indeed, the only topic of conversation that morning was what happened to Professor McGonagall, who had since been moved to St. Mungo’s, and whose attack only lowered Professor Umbridge’s public image.

Ursula could have cheered when Professor Umbridge stormed into the Great Hall ten minutes later, her hair smoking, her face smeared with soot, rage evident in the way she walked, and, best of all, still being trailed by fireworks, one of which had evidently hit a Trumpeter Toad and had given it the ability to fly.

Their scheduled NEWT that day was Transfiguration, which made the seventh years unusually subdued, for obvious reasons. Ursula, for her part, resolved to do her very best to make Professor McGonagall proud, and left both the written and practical portion of the exam feeling extremely confident.

Cassius was finished with his exams, and cheerfully celebrated by going to bed no later than half past nine that night. Ursula, Lilian, Adrian, and Vanessa all had one exam to study for, either Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, while Gemma still had two, which meant that they all stayed up to cram until late into the night.

The next morning, there was a sort of almost-relief in the air, as the fifth and seventh years only had one more day of their exams. Ursula, Adrian, and Lilian went back to the common room to study while Gemma and Vanessa endured their three hour written Arithmancy exam. Ursula had a stack of notes a foot high in front of her, and anxiously recited various rune translations with the others as they waited for their exam to begin. At lunch, a great many of the seventh years were jovial, as about two thirds of them had finished their NEWTs. The remaining one third were quiet and studious, anxious to get as much studying done as possible and unafraid to snap at those who interrupted them.

At one o’clock, the seventh years in Ancient Runes returned to the chamber off the hall and took their places in front of their overturned examination papers. As soon as Professor Babbling had turned over the enormous hourglass to signal that their three hours had begun, Ursula began to write, reviewing every answer, every translation, so that she was absolutely sure they were correct. Many of the questions asked about the uses of runes, while some asked to translate the rune into English, or vice versa. It was a long and gruelling test that left Ursula and her friends exhausted but relieved.

As she was coming out of the test, still anxiously clutching the exam paper, Ursula and her friends came upon a peculiar group of students: peculiar because several of them were all bruised or bleeding, and because they all seemed in a great hurry.

“I’ll meet you back in the common room,” said Ursula with a sigh, departing from Adrian, Lilian, and Gemma, and crossing quickly towards the group of students, whom she now saw were Gryffindors Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom, and a Ravenclaw who she was pretty sure was named Luna Lovegood. “You four had better stop where you are.”

As she approached, they all looked guilty but defiant, as if they might make a run for it, but Ursula pulled out her wand and stood in the corridor’s exit, separating them from the rest of the students pouring out of their exams. There were several long scratches running the length of Ginny’s cheek, a large purple lump was swelling above Neville’s right eye, and Ron’s lip was bleeding, but they all looked very pleased with themselves.

“What is going on here?” she asked. Ron opened his mouth after a moment, but she added, “The truth, please.”

To her surprise, it was Ginny who spoke. After eyeing Ursula for a moment, she burst out with, “Harry used Umbridge’s fireplace to call Sirius, and now he and Hermione are in the Forbidden Forest with her. We got caught by the Inquisitorial Squad, and, er, we escaped.”

“Ginny!” said Ron in an angry whisper. Ginny ignored him, looking defiantly up at Ursula.

Ursula had the feeling that if she was to go to Professor Umbridge’s office, she would find several Slytherins suffering from a variety of jinxes.

“Alright,” she said, lowering her voice. She ushered them into the nearest empty classroom and shut the door. “Now, I want one of you to tell me why Harry tried to call Sirius Black.”

Exchanging looks of surprise with the others, Ron said after a few seconds, “Er — he had some kind of vision that Sirius was stuck in the Department of Mysteries.”

“A vision from whom?” pressed Ursula, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“You-Know-Who, he said,” said Ron. “Hermione made Harry check that Sirius wasn’t at home.”

“I see,” said Ursula, her mind racing. “Very well, you may go.”

“You’re — you’re not going to put us in detention?” said Neville, his voice quivering in fright and amazement.

“I am going to forget we ever had this conversation and pretend the four of you are simply headed outside for some fresh air,” said Ursula, opening the door.

They filed out one by one, looking at her with awestruck eyes. Her heart pounding, Ursula walked swiftly in the other direction, thinking through her options. With Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall gone she wasn’t sure who within the school she could turn to. What she did know, however, was that Professor Umbridge’s fireplace was the only one not being watched by the Ministry, and she had a very keen guess that Harry had not reached Sirius, but rather Kreacher, who would’ve all too easily lied to him.

By now she was ascending the stairs at a rapid pace, and soon she had reached Professor Umbridge’s office, where indeed she found half a dozen Slytherins including Draco Stunned or otherwise incapacitated. Draco himself seemed to be the victim of a particularly good Bat-Bogey Hex.

“What is going on here?” said Ursula sternly. With a flick of her wand, she released Millicent Bulstrode, Crabbe, and Goyle from being Stunned and reversed the effects of the hex on Draco. Theodore Nott seemed fine, although he appeared to have hit his head, likely due to an Impediment Jinx.

“Potter — Weasley —” huffed Draco.

Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, what will Professor Umbridge think if she finds you all here in her office when she is not?” she said. “Get out, all of you.”

“But —” protested Draco.

“Go back to the common room,” said Ursula, in her most authoritative voice.

When she was positive they were all gone, she shut Professor Umbridge’s door with a snap and made her way swiftly over to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, knelt on the hearth, and tossed the powder into the fireplace, turning the flames green.

“Number Four, Grimmauld Place!” she said, sticking her head into the fire. Ursula found herself looking out upon the long, cold kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was empty. “Sirius! Sirius!”

Ursula heard faraway footsteps, and then the door to the kitchen swung open and Sirius ran in, with Remus on his heels.

“Ursula?” said Sirius, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Harry is headed to the Department of Mysteries looking for you,” said Ursula quickly. “He has at least five students with him. Apparently he had some kind of vision from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he thinks you’re there.”

“Why didn’t he check here?” said Remus, as Sirius ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“I believe he did, but he didn’t talk to either of you,” said Ursula. Raising her voice, she yelled, “Kreacher!”

The elf appeared, muttering under his breath as he saw Sirius glaring down at him.

“Kreacher, I order you to tell us what Harry asked you, and what you told him,” said Ursula. Her knees were starting to ache.

“The Potter boy asked where Master was,” said Kreacher against his will. “Kreacher tells him that Master is not here, oh yes, Kreacher tells him he is alone.”

“KREACHER!” roared Sirius. “Go upstairs, and STAY THERE.” He practically threw Kreacher from the room, muttering, “I’ll punish him after I find Harry.”

“I have a feeling there will be Death Eaters waiting to ambush them,” said Ursula.

“I’ll alert the Order,” said Remus, hurrying from the room.

Sirius started to follow him, but Ursula said, “Sirius, wait!”

“What?” he said, a slightly manic look in his eyes.

“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries with a veil,” said Ursula. “I don’t know what it looks like or what it does — but it’s known as the Death Veil. The Death Eaters are very interested in it. Don’t let  _ anyone _ go near it.”

“Alright. I’ll warn the others,” said Sirius. Then he dashed from the room, and Ursula pulled her head back out of the fireplace.

She left Professor Umbridge’s office and headed down to the Slytherin common room, where her friends were already mid-celebration. Adrian passed her a bottle of butterbeer and she joined Lilian on one of the couches.

Ursula couldn’t fully enjoy the celebration, what with her anxiety over the situation with Harry and Sirius. But there was little more she could do; she had a faint suspicion that Professor Snape was assisting Professor Dumbledore and the others, but she had been unable to find him when she went looking. She had sent a detailed patronus to Professor Dumbledore, relying on the magic of the spell to find him wherever he was.

“Hmm?” said Ursula, coming out of her reverie and missing Lilian’s question entirely.

“I said, aren’t you glad we’re done?” said Lilian. “We only have a week left before we graduate! Merlin, I can’t wait for our Hogsmeade trip on Sunday.”

“Yes, I couldn’t do anymore testing,” said Ursula, with a slightly forced laugh. “But I hadn’t realized just how close we are to leaving Hogwarts.”

“Mmhm,” said Lilian, half listening, as she watched Cassius and Adrian arm wrestle, with the former easily winning. “Cassius is planning on bringing in some Firewhiskey later.”

“I figured he would,” said Ursula. “As long as he keeps it away from the younger students, I can’t really stop him.”

“Good,” said Lilian. Setting her drink down, she tugged Ursula out of her seat as one of the sixth years set up a Muggle record player. Even the snobby purebloods couldn’t deny how good the music sounded. “Come on, let’s dance! Tonight’s supposed to be fun!”

Ursula laughed, though the knot in her chest only tightened, and followed Lilian, reveling in the fact that her exams were over and hoping above all else that she was wrong, that Death Eaters weren’t waiting to ambush Harry at the Ministry, and that if they were, Professor Dumbledore would get there in time.


	84. Graduation

Ursula was awake at dawn the very next morning. In actuality, she had never gone to sleep, as the Slytherins had paused their celebration only to go up to dinner, and had partied — well, some of them — until dawn. By the time it was four in the morning the party had dwindled to a select few, but the seventh years had no inclination to sleep, despite their exhausting NEWTs, so Cassius poured Firewhiskey into fancy crystal glasses and they drank like posh people. When at last her friends had decided they were simply too tired to carry on, all claiming they needed an hour or two of sleep before breakfast, Ursula had instead decided to go for a walk. This time, she really was out for a walk, and was not simply pretending so that she could prank Professor Umbridge.

“Professor Dumbledore!” said Ursula, surprised but pleased, when she rounded a corner and nearly ran right into him. “You’re back!”

“Yes, Ms. Black, I am,” said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. “And I must thank you for your prompt patronus. Without it I would not have arrived at the Ministry as fast as I did.”

Ursula was enormously relieved, and the knot in her chest dissolved.

“Is everyone —”

“There are a few injuries, and I’m afraid your cousin Tonks will spend a bit of time in St. Mungo’s, but everyone else is fine,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Sirius told me that you contacted him. It was quick thinking on your part to use the Floo in Professor Umbridge’s office.”

“I had to warn him somehow,” said Ursula.

“I am grateful you did,” said Professor Dumbledore. “If I may ask, how did you know about the Veil?”

“Hadrian told me,” answered Ursula honestly. “Hadrian Rowle. He came to Hogsmeade before our exams. He, er, attended a Death Eater meeting the week before. That was all he could really figure out. He wasn’t —”

“No, Ms. Black, he was not there,” said Professor Dumbledore kindly. “I am afraid the same cannot be said for certain members of his family, however.”

Ursula nodded.

“Expect an invitation to meet with me soon,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I have a few matters I wish to discuss before your graduation. But in the meantime, please excuse me while I fetch Professor Umbridge from the Forbidden Forest.”

Ursula was taken aback as Professor Dumbledore walked away. Professor Umbridge was _still_ in the Forbidden Forest?

But yes, Professor Dumbledore strode alone into the forest and returned supporting Professor Umbridge, who had apparently had an ordeal with the centaurs. Her usually neat mousy hair was very untidy and there were bits of twig and leaf in it, but otherwise she seemed to be quite unscathed.

Ursula was so relieved that everyone was alright that her anxiety vanished and was replaced by exhaustion. She stumbled back to her dorm and slept for an hour or so before breakfast. All of the seventh years got up late, but they found less-than-good news waiting for them in the Great Hall.

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic

Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-

Not-Be Named has returned to this country and is

active once more.

“It is with great regret that I must confirm that the

wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I

mean — is alive and among us again,” said Fudge,

looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters.

“It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass

revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown

themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry’s em-

ploy. We believe that the dementors are currently tak-

ing direction from Lord — Thingy.

We urge the magical population to remain vigi-

lant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to

elementary home and personal defense that will be

delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the

coming month.”

The Minister’s statement was met with dismay and

alarm from the Wizarding community, which as re-

cently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry as-

surances that there was “no truth whatsoever in these

persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating

amongst us once more.”

Details of the events that led to the Ministry turn-

around are still hazy, though it is believed that He-

Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of

followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to

the Ministry of Magic itself on Friday evening.

For more details of the Death Eaters involved,

see page four.

“Oh shit,” said Cassius, as Ursula finished reading the article, which went on to talk about Professor Dumbledore and Harry. “And this all happened _last night_?”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula, turning to page four.

“Sort of frightening, isn’t it?” said Gemma, who held the Ministry to an especially high standard as a rule.

“Who was involved?” asked Adrian. Ursula read the article out loud.

The Death Eaters involved in the attack on

the Ministry have all been captured and sent

to Azkaban, although rumors persist that

Bellatrix Lestrange, known Death Eater and

perpetrator of some of the worst crimes of

the first war, escaped, along with He-Who-

Must-Not-Be-Named.

Among the captured Death Eaters are form-

er Ministry employees Augustus Rookwood,

a former Department of Mysteries employ-

ee turned spy for You-Know-Who, and

Walden Macnair, the Ministry executioner

named by the Boy Who Lived in his ex-

clusive interview (page nine).

It should relieve the Wizarding public

to know that many of the Death Eaters

who escaped in January have been re-

turned to Azkaban, including Evander

Mulciber, Caledon Avery, and brothers

Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange.

Convicted murderer Antonin Dolohov has

been returned to Azkaban, and Vincent Crabbe

Sr., previously named by the Boy Who Lived as

one of You-Know-Who’s followers, has been

arrested.

Perhaps most surprising and unsettling of all are

the arrests of Lucius Malfoy, noted Ministry

supporter and philanthropist turned Death Eater,

and Montgomery Rowle, wealthy businessman and

former pillar of the wizarding community. Not only

were Malfoy and Rowle involved in the Ministry

attack, but early reports suggest they had been pl-

anning it for months. The magical community

is understandably shocked by this revelation,

which should serve as a reminder to all to be

careful of those you trust in these uncertain

times.

“Well,” said Ursula with a sigh. “That’s certainly… a development.”

“You’re not surprised?” asked Lilian in a hushed voice. Ursula shook her head.

“No, I’m not surprised,” she said grimly. Ursula knew she and Hadrian had a _lot_ to talk about. Lucius and Montgomery’s arrests were major, and the fallout wouldn’t be pretty. “I bet Hadrian is facing hell at work today.”

“Do you think he knew?” said Vanessa in a hushed voice.

“No,” said Ursula, lying through her teeth. “No, I don’t believe he did.”

“Is the whole paper about the attack?” asked Adrian.

“I think so,” said Ursula. “What else is there to talk about?”

She turned the page to see a picture of her cousin, Sirius Black, grinning up at her. The headline read:

**Sirius Black: Innocent at Last**

“Ah, now this is interesting,” said Ursula, scanning the article.

Sirius Black has been proven innocent after nearly

fifteen years. Upon providing what the Ministry

has deemed irrefutable proof that he did not

commit the murders of twelve Muggles and wizard

Peter Pettigrew, he was formally released and no

longer has a criminal record. The Ministry has

no reason to believe he is or ever was a servant of

You-Know-Who’s. When asked what he thought of this

belated justice, Mr. Black said, “It’s about time.”

“So who did kill all those people?” said Lilian.

“The article doesn’t say,” said Ursula. “The whole paper is just about the direct opposite of what the Ministry has been claiming for the last year.”

“Some justice if he’s been locked up for fifteen years,” said Cassius with a snort. The others murmured their vague agreement.

As expected, the fallout of the events at the Ministry wasn’t pretty. On one hand, it was a relief to many students, Ursula included, to know that Death Eaters like Antonin Dolohov were back in Azkaban, although she doubted he would remain there long. On the other hand, two of her uncles had been arrested, as had her aunt, which put any of the stigma surrounding Harry’s interview naming the Death Eaters to shame. Lucius was Ursula’s uncle and Draco’s father, and she had to endure a number of taunts in the days that followed.

Ursula could contain her annoyance, if only because she was slightly relieved. She wished Lucius and Montgomery had not been involved at all, but she couldn’t deny that she felt safer knowing Dolohov was locked up again.

“Getting ready to join the Death Eaters, Black?” taunted a sixth year Ravenclaw.

“Are you trying to end your year with a detention, Belby?” shot back Ursula, and Marcus Belby’s smirk dropped at once.

Ursula felt oddly in control. Professor McGonagall was, thankfully, back, as was Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Umbridge was out of power. She didn’t know, however, that it was Ursula who had practically destroyed her office, and Ursula intended to keep it that way. That was a bomb to drop at a later date. But as she walked around the halls, she felt strangely aware of her power as Head Girl, weirdly as if she had been captain of a ship that had gone through stormy waters. Ursula knew her fellow students respected and, in some cases, feared her. She knew she was a de facto leader for the Slytherins. But it was one of the rare times when she actually felt that way.

There were others who were not handling the situation with the Ministry as well, namely Draco, who was angry and resentful. His vengeful mutterings got to the point where Ursula pulled him into an empty classroom to lecture him.

“Stupid Potter,” muttered Draco, crossing his arms.

“Draco, you have to _stop_ blaming Harry Potter for this,” said Ursula sternly. “Lucius foolishly got himself caught. You can’t keep pretending otherwise, and I don’t like seeing you claim he did nothing wrong.”

“But Father’s in Azkaban!” whined Draco. “All these mudblood-lovers are poisoning the minds of —”

“That is _enough_ , Draco,” snapped Ursula. “You can’t go around saying such things. You are too young. You don’t understand what’s _really_ going on.”

“I’m not a child!” said Draco hotly.

“You as good as are when it comes to how you’ve been acting lately,” fired Ursula right back. “You need to grow up. This isn’t a game.”

“The dementors have left Azkaban,” said Draco quietly. “Father and the others’ll be out in no time…”

Ursula gulped. He was right.

“Even so,” said Ursula. “Trust me, Draco. I don’t want you to be forced into this.”

She left the classroom feeling as though he _would_ be forced into it all, and soon, although the thought made a lump rise in her throat. Ursula had a letter from Hadrian in the evening, which described exactly what she had both feared and expected: he had been interrogated at work, but the Ministry believed him when he said he had no idea what was going to happen.

On Sunday, the seventh years set out for Hogsmeade together, for what Lilian insistently called a girls’ trip even though she had also made sure Cassius and Adrian would be coming. The sun was hot as they walked in a loose group, but every so often a cool breeze would blow past them. Cassius led the way, often walking backwards so he could face the others while he was talking. Ursula and Lilian were next, arms linked; Ursula’s braids slapped against her back every time she darted forward to help Cassius up after he tripped.

“I’m so excited for graduation,” said Vanessa. She gestured to Ursula and Cassius. “Aren’t you two supposed to decorate the Great Hall?”

“Mmhm,” said Ursula. “Don’t worry, I have plans.”

“Don’t you have to give a speech or something?” said Adrian. Ursula nodded.

“I haven’t even started writing it,” she said.

“Are you nervous?” said Vanessa. “I would be.”

“Honestly? Not at all,” said Ursula. “I’ve never really been afraid of public speaking.”

“Lucky you,” said Lilian jokingly.

“I heard that the top student in each subject wins an award,” said Adrian. “Magical Merit, or something like that.”

“The Medal for Magical Merit is for the students who are at the top of the whole class,” corrected Gemma. “The Award for Academic Excellence is given to the best student in each subject.”

“I’m sure you’ll win for Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures,” said Lilian to Ursula.

“Not as sure as I am that you’ll win for Muggle Studies,” said Ursula. “Honestly Lils, no one puts more effort into that class than you.”

“I can’t wait until we get our NEWT scores,” said Cassius. “I didn’t think I would care this much.”

“I know. I’m super anxious to find out whether I’ve got the job I want or not,” said Gemma. “The suspense is practically killing me.”

“We’ve not got long now!” chirped Lilian, as they turned onto High Street. “Ooh!”

They had just arrived at Honeydukes, which had a display window crammed full of their brightest, most delectable sweets. The seventh years were hit at once with the familiar sugary, chocolatey smell as they squeezed inside the crowded shop. The shelves of Honeydukes were being wiped clean as fast as they could be restocked, as everyone wanted to have plenty of candy for the summer. The seventh years were no exception; far from it, in fact, as they bought more than anyone else, half out of nostalgia, and half because they were teenagers who had plenty of money to spend and lots of delicious sweets to buy.

“This is the last time we’ll get to come to Honeydukes, isn’t it,” said Cassius dejectedly, a lollipop in his mouth.

“Then you’d better buy a lot of candy!” said Lilian, who had resolved to spend the last of her pocket money stocking up for the summer.

Indeed, the seventh years bought as much candy as they could carry, shoving their purchases into bags charmed with Undetectable Extension Charms so they wouldn’t be weighed down. They stopped in at Zonko’s Joke Shop for bits and bobs, not that they really needed them now that Professor Umbridge had been ousted.

Their next stop was Gladrags’ Wizardwear, which was, somewhat unfortunately, the only clothing shop in Hogsmeade. Vanessa and the other girls thought it was high time another one opened, but they made do.

“How do I look?” said Vanessa, stepping out of the dressing room in a faded pink sundress.

“Marvelous,” said Ursula, as they all applauded. Lilian wolf whistled jokingly.

“My turn!” said Lilian. She disappeared into the dressing room and came back out a few minutes later in a cute pair of embroidered overalls with cuffed pant legs.

“Aww, you look so cute!” said Vanessa.

“Good choice,” said Ursula.

“Your turn,” said Lilian, pushing Ursula towards the dressing room.

Ursula emerged wearing a short dark green corduroy skirt with her tank top tucked into it. Her friends clapped and Cassius whistled.

“Spin for us!” said Vanessa. Ursula twirled around, and they cheered.

“Alright Gemma, you’re up,” said Ursula, tugging her out of her seat.

“No, I don’t want to. I didn’t find anything and this is not my thing,” said Gemma, protesting.

“We found you something. Now come on,” said Ursula.

Reluctantly, Gemma went, and she was grinning when she came back out in a light blue pantsuit.

“Well? How did we do?” said Ursula.

“Brilliant. I love it,” said Gemma.

“Yay!” said Vanessa, clapping her hands.

“Is that it? Are we done?” said Adrian, pretending to be more bored than he was. The girls turned on him, their eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Nope,” said Lilian, popping the p. “It’s your turn now.”

“What — aww, no,” said Adrian.

“We found something for you and Cassius both, so you can match,” said Ursula.

“Hell yeah!” said Cassius. He clapped a hand on Adrian’s back and pushed him forward. Vanessa handed them each a green jacket with white sleeves.

“It’s called a letterman jacket,” said Lilian. “They’re very popular with Muggles. We found a couple here.”

“Alright, they are pretty cool,” said Adrian grudgingly.

“I’m glad you like it,” said Ursula.

The seventh years paid for their clothes and left, swinging their bags around as they laughed and walked down High Street. They popped briefly into Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop and then into Dervish & Banges before turning around and heading back down the street towards the Three Broomsticks. The pub was as crowded as always, but Cassius went and cleared a table while the others ordered their drinks.

Squeezing into her seat at the table with her cherry syrup and soda in hand, Ursula said, “I can’t get over how unbelievable it is that we’re graduating in _less than a week_.”

“I know,” said Lilian, taking a sip of her butterbeer. “I mean, I’m excited and all, but I’m also terrified.”

“I’m not,” said Gemma. “I’m ready to leave, if I’m being honest.”

“Here,” said Cassius, setting a tray of small glasses down in the center of the table. “Let’s all do a shot of Firewhiskey to celebrate.”

“Cassius!” said Ursula. “You’re a prefect!”

“What, we’re of age!” defended Cassius. “Don’t tell me the _Head Girl_ won’t do a shot with her friends.”

Ursula rolled her eyes, but took one of the shot glasses anyway.

“To us!” said Cassius.

“To us!” echoed the others, before they all downed the Firewhiskey in unison, then gasped and laughed as it burned their throats.

~~~

On Monday, the seventh years came up to breakfast with renewed anxiety, as they would be receiving their NEWT scores with the arrival of the mail. They watched the ceiling of the Great Hall for any flap, any flutter, of wings and listened through the breakfast chatter for the soft hoot of an arriving owl.

“Merlin’s beard,” swore Lilian, as the mail arrived and a huge number of owls poured in. “Nope, I’m not ready. Now I don’t want to know.”

Ursula squeaked as a large tawny owl swooped in front of her, depositing a thick envelope on her lap.

“I can’t open it,” she said, picking up the envelope by just the corner.

On her left, Cassius’s results arrived, narrowly missing the orange juice. Lilian snatched hers out of the air and then held the envelope in trembling hands.

“I’m gonna do it,” said Cassius.

He tore the envelope nearly in half and fumbled with the parchment inside. Then he was quiet for a moment, frowning.

“Well?” demanded Adrian.

Cassius grinned, waving his parchment around and said, “Six NEWTs! I passed everything, with two E’s and four O’s.”

Emboldened by his success, the others took deep breaths and opened their own results. Adrian got all five of his NEWTs, with an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Vanessa likewise got six, surprising herself but no one else when she got an O in Alchemy. Gemma impressively received nine NEWTs, six of which were O’s, and Lilian got seven NEWTs, with an O in Muggle Studies.

“Come on, open it already!” said Lilian, as Ursula was taking forever with her results.

Her hands shaking, Ursula opened the envelope and pulled out the folded parchment. Fearing she might pass out, she unfolded the parchment and read her results:

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ **

**_Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test Results:_ ** **  
**

**Pass Grades: Fail Grades:**

Outstanding (O) Poor (P) 

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D) 

Acceptable (A) Troll (T) 

**_Ursula Cassiopeia Black has achieved:_ **

  
  


Alchemy - E

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - E

History of Magic - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

“Well?” said Cassius. “Don’t keep us in suspense!”

“Eight O’s,” said Ursula with a wry smile, “and two E’s. Ten NEWTs in all.”

Her friends cheered. The atmosphere of the Great Hall changed instantly, as the vast majority of the seventh years were proud of themselves and their friends, as well as extremely relieved, having received the scores they were hoping for. Now that they had their scores, they were just waiting to hear back from the places they applied to for jobs.

Lilian had only minutes to wait, as at the end of the arrival of the post that very morning, one last great horned owl swooped in and deposited a letter on top of her toast, stamped with the Ministry’s official seal.

“Oh no,” she said in horror, staring at the envelope. “Oh, no no no no no.”

“What is it?” asked Cassius.

Lilian picked up the envelope, holding it at arm’s length. She wiped a spot of jam at the corner.

“Is that the response to your application?” said Vanessa. Lilian nodded. “What are you waiting for? Open it!”

Lilian tentatively peeled back the seal and pulled out the letter, gripping the parchment so tight that she was in danger of ripping it.

“‘Dear Ms. Fenharrow,’” she read. “‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted —’ Oh my — I-I’ve been accepted!”

“Congratulations!” squealed Ursula.

“I knew you’d get it!” said Cassius.

“I’ve been accepted,” repeated Lilian dumbstruck, as her friends offered their congratulations. “I’ve been accepted.”

“What else does it say?” said Gemma.

“I’ve been accepted as an intern for Arthur Weasley, in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. It says I’m to start on July 15th — blimey, that’s just a couple weeks from now,” said Lilian, beaming. “Wow. I can’t believe it.”

“You deserve it, Lils,” said Ursula.

“Thanks,” said Lilian. Now that it had sunk in, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Wow. I — I’m so relieved, honestly. This is real. This is exciting.”

“You’ll do brilliantly,” assured Adrian.

The general mood around Hogwarts was very pleasant over their last week, even in light of the devastating news that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. Professor Dumbledore was back, their exams were over, and every day more good news came for the seventh years. It all felt right, like things were back to normal and going well again.

Cassius and Adrian’s life after Hogwarts was already settled, so they had none of the same anticipation that the girls had. On Tuesday, Ursula heard back from a couple of the places she had applied to, but only her back up options, which were smaller reserves for various creatures other than dragons. She still anxiously awaited news of whether or not she had been accepted into the dragonology program.

Vanessa got good news on Tuesday with the arrival of an envelope stamped with a wand crossed with a bone. She had been accepted into the trainee healer program at St. Mungo’s, which was less intense than their years-long program to become a healer at the hospital.

“Oh,” said Vanessa, as she read the letter. “Alright. I didn’t think I’d actually get in.”

“Why not? You got great grades,” said Cassius.

“I didn’t take Potions, though,” said Vanessa.

“Are you going to accept?” said Ursula. Vanessa shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said. “But I’ll have to think about it.”

Gemma similarly received news Wednesday morning from the Ministry of Magic. She eagerly grabbed the letter before it had even left the owl’s beak.

“Finally,” she said breathlessly, tearing it open at once. “Yes! I did it! I got the job! I’m now a Junior Consultant in the International Magical Office of Law.”

“Well done!” said Ursula, clapping her on the back.

“Congratulations!” said Lilian.

With everything coming up roses for her friends, Ursula’s anxiety and anticipation were at an all time high. She didn’t want to ruin the mood if she didn’t get in, but all the same she wanted more than anything just to _know_. Thankfully, her misery was put out on Thursday morning, with the arrival of a snowy owl carrying an envelope stamped with a purple seal in its beak.

Ursula took a deep breath, her heart thrumming in her ears, and slit open the envelope, pulling out the packet of papers inside. With a silent prayer, she read the first page. She didn’t know what she would do if she didn’t get in.

_Dear Ms. Black,_

_We at the Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary are excited to inform you_ —

Excited.

They were excited.

That was a good sign, right?

— _that you have been accepted into our internship program_.

Accepted.

She was accepted.

She had done it.

Ursula was so overcome that she found herself in tears. Her friends quieted as she put her head in her hands, shaking and crying from joy.

“Ursula?” asked Cassius tentatively.

“I —” she said, half laughing, half crying. “— I got in.”

“Then why are you crying?” said Cassius, laughing as he hugged her. Her friends exploded into congratulations, patting her on the back and congratulating her.

“I’m just — so happy,” said Ursula, wiping her eyes as she beamed from ear to ear.

Ursula’s elation did not dim that entire day. She was congratulated by Professor McGonagall when she met with her that afternoon to discuss the graduation ceremony.

“How are the decorations coming?” said Professor McGonagall. Every year, it was up to the seventh years to choose how they wanted to decorate the Great Hall, with the Head Boy and Head Girl in charge.

“Very well, I’d say. There were lots of requests for flowers and balloons, so we’re happy with what we came up with,” said Ursula.

“Excellent,” said Professor McGonagall.

Professor Flitwick got rid of Fred and George’s swamp in about three seconds, with Professor Umbridge in the Hospital Wing and all. He left a tiny patch roped off under the window, however, because it was just a really good piece of magic.

The seventh years got one more treat before graduation that night at dinner, when Professor Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. It seemed that she had crept out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, evidently hoping to depart undetected, but unfortunately for her, she met Peeves on the way, who seized his last chance to do as Fred had instructed and chased her gleefully from the premises, whacking her alternately with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk.

Many students ran out into the entrance hall to watch her running away down the path, and the Heads of Houses tried only half-heartedly to restrain their pupils. Indeed, Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair at the staff table after a few feeble remonstrances and was clearly heard to express a regret that she could not run cheering after Professor Umbridge herself, because Peeves had borrowed her walking stick.

On Friday, Professor McGonagall instructed that all of the seventh years stay behind in the Great Hall after breakfast so they could rehearse the graduation ceremony for the next day.

“You will enter the Hall in alphabetical order — Mr. Jordan, put that away — and then you will take your seats in the section reserved for you in the front of the hall,” said Professor McGonagall, her walking stick clicking on the stone floor. “Once you are all seated, I will give a speech, and then I will recognize the Quidditch captains and players. After that, I will announce the awards. As you should all know, awards are given to the student with the best grade in each class, and to the students who achieved the most NEWTs.”

“That’s you,” whispered Cassius, nudging Ursula’s shoulder.

“Then, the Head Boy will speak, followed by the Head Girl,” continued Professor McGonagall, who had not missed Cassius talking while she was speaking and sent him a disapproving glare. “Finally, I will call you up one by one to receive your diplomas. Professor Dumbledore will give a speech and make the pronouncement. You will have time to greet your families, and then Hagrid will lead you back across the lake in the same boats you arrived in. Any questions?”

“Should we wear our Quidditch badges?” piped up Hufflepuff Elizabeth Barrett.

“Excellent question,” said Professor McGonagall. “Yes, on your graduation robes, those of you who are Quidditch captains, prefects, or the Head Boy and Girl should wear the associated badges. Any other questions?”

When no one had any, she dismissed them with a reminder to pack today, as they would not have time to do so tomorrow. She held Ursula back, however, and Ursula told her friends to go ahead.

“Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, handing her yet another thick envelope. “I received this letter this morning. It is for you.”

Ursula opened it bemusedly, then gasped when she saw who it was from.

“The — the Society of Distinguished Transfigurers?” she said. “I’ve been accepted?”

“Yes, you have,” said Professor McGonagall, who was positively beaming at Ursula. “You are the youngest member to be inducted in nearly one hundred years.”

“This is a huge honor,” said Ursula. “Thank you so much, Professor.”

“It was my absolute pleasure to nominate you,” said Professor McGonagall. “It’s been many years since I have had a Transfiguration student with your brilliance. I will be sad to see you graduate.”

Before she could stop herself, Ursula hugged Professor McGonagall, who hugged her back, although with a touch of hesitation. Ursula left the Great Hall, positively beside herself with joy. She waved to her friends, who were waiting across the entrance hall.

“Guess what?” she said.

“What?” chorused Adrian and Cassius.

“I’ve been accepted,” said Ursula breathlessly, “into the Society for Distinguished Transfigurers.”

“Really?” said Gemma. “Congratulations! That’s really prestigious.”

“I didn’t think I’d actually get in,” said Ursula.

“Oh please,” said Cassius, rolling his eyes. “The only thing you’re ever wrong about is whether or not you’ve won something.”

“Don’t listen to him. Congrats Ursula!” said Lilian.

“Come on,” said Cassius, linking arms with Ursula and Lilian and tugging them towards the great front doors. “Let’s go outside.”

“We’re supposed to pack, you know,” said Gemma, but she, Vanessa, and Adrian followed without protest.

It was a beautiful, sunny day outside, and the seventh years sprawled in their favorite spot, under one of the large beech trees on the front lawn. They watched as Lee Jordan messed with the giant squid and other students swam in the cool lake.

“I’m gonna miss Hogwarts,” said Cassius, leaning against the trunk of the tree.

“Me too,” murmured Ursula.

The group of six didn’t talk much after that. They simply sat or laid in the soft grass and enjoyed the beautiful weather. They came back in for lunch, but wistfully so, and it took rather a large portion of the afternoon to finish packing, as it proved to be an incredibly slow process. Gemma, of course, finished first, as she was the least sentimental of them all, but Lilian wasn’t done even when they headed up for the end-of-term feast that night.

“I am not often one for long, meandering speeches, so feel free to let your minds wander if you must,” began Professor Dumbledore as the last bits of dessert vanished. “I simply wish to impart upon you all a few words of what I hope are wisdom.”

Ursula could tell that his serene gaze was a bit sad as his piercing blue eyes swept over them.

“Lord Voldemort has returned,” he said, and there was a ripple throughout the Great Hall as students flinched at the name. Ursula didn’t move. “Just as I declared he had at the end of last year, the truth is out at last. I believe that in order for you to be truly prepared, you must firstly be aware of what you’re up against. Many of you have grown up hearing tales of the last time he walked among us, and many of your families have already suffered at his hands or at the hands of his followers.”

Ursula’s hands clenched, her nails digging painfully into her palms. A great many eyes turned to the Slytherin table with frowns and glares.

“I hope you all know that no one among us, particularly your fellow students, are to blame,” said Professor Dumbledore, who had not missed the glares sent to the green and silver table. “Division is not the way forward. Distrust is not the way forward. I ask that all of you, every witch and wizard seated in this hall, consider how you would feel to be blamed for actions you had no control over. It does not do to dole out blame where blame is not deserved, and in the trying times ahead of us, we must unite in order to succeed.”

For the first time in a long time, the Great Hall was completely and utterly silent, as the students stared, raptured, at Professor Dumbledore.

“I know you are all young, and if I believed I could spare each and every one of you from the horrors that may come I would,” continued Professor Dumbledore. “But I believe that even the youngest among you have a right to know the truth. Remember that each and every one of you has power. I do not mean magic. The power I am referring to is much stronger and deeper. The bonds of friendship that bring us together mean more than any spell ever will. Take value from what you have, and do not lose it or let it go.”

His lined, mournful face changed into a soft smile.

“I have talked too much, I can tell,” he said. “We have reached the end of another eventful year together, and my last words of wisdom to you all are to go forward in hope. Goodnight.”

There was a great scraping of benches as students left the Hall, murmuring anxiously amongst themselves as they proceeded up or down the stairs to their respective common rooms.

“Right, well… I suppose we’d better turn in, and make sure everything’s packed and ready for tomorrow, right?” said Adrian. None among them were anxious to go to bed, as doing so meant that they were well and truly leaving Hogwarts.

One by one, they returned to their dorms for a final night, however. Ursula had taken great care to fold her clothes, stack her books, and double and triple check that she had everything off of her desk, out of her wardrobe, and out from under her bed. She had her graduation robes and school uniform laid out for tomorrow, and everything but Agatha and Betelgeuse was packed and ready to go, except for Ursula herself. She wasn’t ready to leave Hogwarts, even though she knew that it was time.

Morning came, and Ursula and her friends enjoyed their last breakfast, their last meal in the Great Hall. They put their owls in cages and their cats in baskets, changed into their graduation robes, and shut their trunks so that the house elves could bring them up to the entrance hall.

“Hey,” said Lilian, poking her head into Ursula’s dorm. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” said Ursula, sliding a final pin into her hair. “Just a second.”

Lilian sat down on the end of Gemma’s bed.

“I don’t know how you manage with your hair that long,” she said conversationally. Ursula’s thick black curls went clear down to her waist when they weren’t held up in a ponytail, and Ursula had spent many hours methodically brushing out her hair.

“I’m going to cut it before I go to Romania,” said Ursula. “I’m thinking just past my shoulders, and then I can let it grow out again.”

Lilian nodded.

“I’m so bloody nervous,” she confessed. “I thought I’d be more ready, but I’m not.”

“Me neither,” said Ursula, adjusting the clasp of her pearl necklace. “And —”

She stopped, fighting to hold back a sudden wave of tears, and put her head in her hands. Lilian came over at once, putting her hands on Ursula’s shoulders.

“I wish my mum was here,” Ursula whispered.

“I know,” murmured Lilian. “I know.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Ursula took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Thanks, Lils,” said Ursula, dapping at her eyes so as not to ruin her makeup. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m the best friend,” corrected Lilian, and they both laughed.

“That you are,” agreed Ursula. “That you are.” She stood up. “Come on. Let’s graduate.”

They met up with the rest of their friends in the common room, so that they could take a picture with Lilian’s camera before heading up to the Great Hall together. Ursula straightened Cassius’s tie as they waited nervously in the chamber off the hall for the ceremony to begin.

“Merlin, I’m terrified,” said Vanessa, fanning herself with her hands.

“We’ve got this,” said Adrian. “We’ve gotten through a lot together, haven’t we?”

“You’re right,” said Cassius. “We can certainly get through this.”

The door to the chamber opened and tiny Professor Flitwick bustled in, causing many of the students to gasp or grasp hands anxiously.

“Please line up in alphabetical order!” he chirped. “Mr. Foxx, you’re behind Ms. Fenharrow, not Ms. McDaniel. Ms. Stimpson, please take your place behind Ms. Stanford. Mr. Towler, Mr. Turner, you are in the wrong order, please switch.”

Once they were all in line, Professor Flitwick led them out of the chamber and through the main doors of the Great Hall. Ursula looked briefly at the line behind her and Cassius flashed her a grin over the heads of the other students. The Great Hall had been wonderfully decorated, with a banner over the dais and lots of enchanted balloons floating high under the pale blue ceiling. Bundles of flowers had been arranged to resemble the house crest of each house, and golden confetti would rain down on them at the end of the ceremony.

“It is my great honor to present the Class of 1996!” said Professor McGonagall from a podium at the top of the hall, gesturing to the incoming seventh years.

Their friends and families cheered as the graduates entered, waving and calling out to them as they passed. On one side of the aisle, Ursula saw Narcissa and Hadrian; on the other, Ken, Tony, the Tonks family, and even Remus and Sirius, who, despite being a free man, had caused a bit of a stir upon his arrival. She also spotted the Weasleys, namely Fred and George dressed in a pair of lurid green scaly jackets. Fred winked at Ursula as she passed. Their parents were there as well, as this should have been their graduation.

Ursula was in the front row of the seats reserved for the seventh years. She was a few seats down from Blossom, and about ten up from Gemma and Lilian, who were lucky enough to be seated beside each other. When they were all seated, Professor McGonagall began to speak. Her speech was long and moving, and Ursula even found herself tearing up.

“I have had the immense privilege of teaching some of the finest students to ever grace these halls,” said Professor McGonagall as she brought her speech to a close. “There are many among them who I have no doubt will do extremely well in life, and I wish each and every one of you well for the bright futures you have waiting. Congratulations, and good luck.”

Applause rang through the Great Hall. Ursula distinctly heard Fred and George whistle and shout in support of Professor McGonagall. When the applause had quieted, Professor McGonagall unfurled the first of several scrolls of parchment waiting on the podium.

“I would first like to recognize the Quidditch players from each house,” said Professor McGonagall. “When I call your name, please come to the stage so Madam Hooch may present you with a medal. Captains will stand beside the podium. First, from Gryffindor, I would like to recognize five-year chaser Alicia Spinnet.”

The Gryffindors in particular applauded as Alicia blushed and hurried up to the dais.

“Next, as unorthodox as this may be, I simply cannot continue this graduation ceremony without acknowledging two students who should be a party of it,” continued Professor McGonagall. “As they are both six-year Gryffindors, I ask that Fred and George Weasley come up to the stage to be honored.” She narrowed her eyes at them in the crowd. “Don’t try to hide, Weasleys.”

To great applause from all of the seventh years, Fred and George jogged up the aisle to shake hands with Professor McGonagall.

“In fact,” she said, her eyes gleaming, “how about the two of you join your classmates for the remainder of the ceremony, hmm?”

Fred and George grinned. Professor Flitwick conjured two more chairs, forcing the last three Slytherins in line to scoot down so he could add them in. Ursula suspected Professor McGonagall had planned to do this all along, should Fred and George show up.

“Finally, from Gryffindor, I would like to recognize six-year chaser and esteemed captain, Angelina Johnson,” said Professor McGonagall.

Angelina headed proudly up to the stage to stand with the other members of her team.

“I should also mention Lee Jordan, who has been our Quidditch commentator for nearly all his time at Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall, gesturing to Lee. Madam Hooch gave him a small medal as well. “Now, onto the Ravenclaw team. I would like to recognize three-year chaser Dennis Moon, three-year beater Jack Foxx, four-year beater Luca Bailey, and two-year keeper Ivy Lewis. Finally, six-year chaser and three-year captain, Rodger Davies.”

The many members of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team headed up to the dais, grinning and high fiving with one another.

“For the Hufflepuff team, I would like to recognize three-year chaser Blossom Ash —” Ursula whistled as Blossom went up to the stage. “— two-year chaser Maya Holmes, three-year keeper Miles Sloper, and three-year beater and captain Elizabeth Barrett.”

The girl next to Ursula jumped up and bounded up onto the stage with the other Hufflepuffs.

“At this time I would also like to recognize another student who tragically is not with us today,” said Professor McGonagall. “Cedric Diggory was the seeker for the Hufflepuff team for five years, as well as captain for two. He is dearly missed.”

The graduation attendees murmured his name solemnly, and Ursula felt a renewed pang in her heart that he was not with them to celebrate graduation.

After a moment of silence in his remembrance, Professor McGonagall said, “Finally, I would like to recognize the following members of the Slytherin Quidditch team: three-year chaser Cassius Warrington, four-year chaser Ursula Black, and five year chaser as well as captain Adrian Pucey.”

Ursula grinned and accepted a hand onto the stage from Adrian so the two of them and Cassius could stand together. Madam Hooch presented them each with a green and silver medal. Once they had returned to their seats, Professor Tilcott joined Professor McGonagall on the dais so he could present the first class award.

“The first Award for Academic Excellence goes to the student with the best overall grade and work ethic in Alchemy,” said Professor Tilcott. “That student is Vanessa Shafiq.”

Cassius was the first to whistle and clap as a stunned Vanessa rose to her feet. Her friends cheered as loud as they could for her. When she had accepted her award, Professor Babbling replaced Professor Tilcott to announce that Lewis Carter was the top student in Ancient Runes. Gemma won for Arithmancy, and then, to no one’s surprise, Ursula won for Care of Magical Creatures, accepting the award and an enormous handshake from Hagrid.

Andrew Barker, a Gryffindor, won for Divination, and then Lilian won for Muggle Studies. Dennis Moon won Astronomy, and Adrian whooped when Cassius’s name was called for Charms. Deservedly, Angelina Johnson won for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and then Professor Sprout bustled up in her patchwork hat to announce the Herbology winner.

“The Award for Academic Excellence in Herbology goes to Rue Hayes,” said Professor Sprout, shaking Rue’s hand enthusiastically when she reached the dais.

Hufflepuff Simon Morrow won for History of Magic, and then Blossom won for Potions, which made her blush in surprise, although everyone else in seventh year knew she was going to win. Similarly, not a single person was surprised when Ursula’s name was called for Academic Excellence in Transfiguration.

“Our final set of awards go to the students who graduate with five or more ‘Outstanding’ scores on their Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests,” said Professor McGonagall, once Ursula had sat back down and the applause had finished. “This year, we are thrilled to have five such students. Before we honor them, I wish to once again honor Cedric Diggory, as his teachers and classmates have no doubt that he would be among these distinguished students.”

There was a reverent second of silence in the crowd. Ursula inhaled sharply. She felt guilty for not thinking about Cedric as often lately, as if she was forgetting him.

“The first recipient of the Medal for Magical Merit, with five Outstandings out of seven NEWTs, is Lewis Carter,” said Professor McGonagall, and there was a polite round of applause for Lewis, louder from the Ravenclaws. “The next winner, with six O’s out of nine NEWTs, is Gemma Farley.”

Ursula whistled as Gemma walked proudly up to the stage to accept the medal, grinning like mad. Lilian high fived her when she sat back down.

“Next, with an impressive seven O’s out of seven NEWTs, is Blossom Ash,” continued Professor McGonagall. Blossom blushed even deeper as she hopped up to collect her award. “Also with seven O’s, but out of ten NEWTs, is Rumina Hayes.”

Rue walked quickly up to the stage, looking slightly embarrassed although she was grinning. Fred, George, and Lee all cheered particularly loudly for her.

“Finally, with an astounding eight O’s out of ten NEWTs, the Medal for Magical Merit goes to Ursula Black,” said Professor McGonagall, who smiled down at Ursula the whole time she was making the announcement. A roar of applause went up as Ursula accepted the award; she saw her father and Tony stand up to cheer for her.

Ursula fanned herself with her hand as Lewis went up to give his speech as Head Boy. He spoke about all of the triumphs and tribulations they had endured, and how much he would miss Hogwarts, and how he felt confident that they would all leave Hogwarts ready to face the world. As he sat down, Ursula took a deep breath, knowing that it was her turn to speak.

“I am honored to be here today,” she began as she stepped up to the podium, her eyes sweeping the many faces that stared up at her. “Not just here giving this speech, but here at Hogwarts. Many generations of great witches and wizards have walked these hallowed halls before me, and many more will do so after. I consider myself lucky to be here, now, with such an outstanding group of teachers and fellow students, many of whom I am blessed to call my friends.”

Lilian gave her a double thumbs up, and Ursula smiled.

“Throughout our seven years at Hogwarts, we have gone through too many tests of strength and of character,” continued Ursula. “We have had seven Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, some of which we were glad to say goodbye to and others whom we begged to stay.”

“She’s talking about you, Lupin!” shouted Cassius, as he too had spotted their former professor in the crowd. Laughter rippled through the Hall.

“The one commonality between all our years was a trait all four houses share,” said Ursula. “Loyalty. Throughout all our years at Hogwarts, we have all always been unfailingly loyal, to ourselves, to our friends, and to our school. Gryffindors are loyal to their cause. They band together and stick together, willing to fight to defend their friends, who have undoubtedly earned their trust. Is that not loyalty? Hufflepuffs are loyal on the assumption of trust. Their friends prove themselves worthy time and time again, even though their friendship doesn’t depend on it. Is that not loyalty? Ravenclaws see the big picture when deciding who or what to be loyal to, but they can be depended on to defend those who’ve earned it. Is that not just as loyal as Gryffindor or Hufflepuff? And finally, Slytherin.”

Here Ursula paused. She had a point to make, and she wanted to be sure that everyone was paying attention when she did.

“Like the other houses, us Slytherins have to earn the loyalty we have to one another, but a certain degree of it is assumed,” she said. “What I mean is that when my fellow Slytherins and I arrived at Hogwarts, we had to stick together the moment the Sorting Hat placed us in Slytherin. We knew to depend on each other if at worst we couldn’t depend on anyone else. I am not here to put blame on anyone, or drag up problems from the past, and thankfully, we have just as strong friendships outside of our house as within it. My point is that each house, each person here, has that in common. We are connected by the ties of loyalty, and if they haven’t broken after all we’ve undergone or put one another through, there’s very little left that could ever shake them.”

Her eyes rested just briefly on each of her friends, and then, just for a moment, on Fred, who beamed at her.

“Hang on to those ties, for they are unbelievingly valuable,” said Ursula. “Take care of your friends, your family, and yourselves. It is time for us to leave Hogwarts, however much we do not want to, but we can depart with all of the knowledge we have gained and all of the memories we have made. It is time to take the next step, and I wish each and every one of us luck as we do.”

The Great Hall burst into applause as Ursula finished speaking. Her friends and family even rose to their feet as they clapped and cheered. Blushing, she took her seat. She could’ve sworn Professor McGonagall winked at her as she returned to the podium to hand out the diplomas.

“Thank you Mr. Carter, Ms. Black,” she said. “You have both been exemplary role models throughout your time at Hogwarts.” Professor McGonagall paused to unfurl the last scroll waiting on the podium, which listed their names in alphabetical order. She adjusted her spectacles on the end of her nose. “When I call your name, please come up to receive your diploma from your Head of House. Benjamin Allen!”

Professor McGonagall spoke briefly about Benjamin as he collected his diploma, listing his accomplishments and his plans for the future.

“Blossom Ash!” she said, and Blossom hurried up to shake hands with Professor Sprout. “A Hufflepuff, Ms. Ash has always been an exceptional student. She is exceedingly kind to all who approach her, and is always willing to lend a helping hand. She goes on to study at the Academy for Apprentice Potioneers.”

Ursula cheered for Blossom as she received her diploma and shook hands with all of her professors and then Professor Dumbledore.

After four more students, Professor McGonagall called, “Ursula Black!”

Ursula heard her friends and family cheer especially loudly as she headed up to receive her diploma positively beaming. She accepted her diploma from Professor Snape, then went down the line of professors to shake their hands.

“A Slytherin, Ms. Black is dedicated, ambitious, and one of the brightest witches of her age. Rarely have I had the pleasure of teaching such a passionate student,” said Professor McGonagall. “She has been accepted into the Society of Distinguished Transfigurers, and she goes on to work as a dragonologist at the Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary while studying under master Transfigurer Philippa Talbot.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Ursula softly as she reached Professor McGonagall.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Black,” said Professor McGonagall, smiling at her. “And congratulations.”

After six more students, Professor McGonagall announced Cedric’s name with an honorary diploma. Ursula was glad he was being honored throughout the ceremony, but it did renew the loss, and it made her hurt more that he wasn’t here.

“Gemma Farley!”

Gemma grinned and rose to her feet, accepting her diploma with a firm handshake.

“A Slytherin, Ms. Farley is an ambitious, driven, and intelligent student. She goes on to work as a Junior Consultant at the International Magical Office of Law.”

Ursula whistled appreciatively and Gemma winked at her as she sat back down.

“Lilian Fenharrow!”

Gemma and Lilian high fived again as Lilian jumped up and headed to the stage.

“A Slytherin, Ms. Fenharrow is a curious, outgoing, and passionate witch who has been a pleasure to teach. She goes on to work as an assistant to Arthur Weasley in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office.”

After Lilian, more than a dozen students were called to receive their diplomas before Adrian. When Professor McGonagall finally said, “Adrian Pucey!” Cassius whooped for his friend.

“A Slytherin, Mr. Pucey is a resourceful and hardworking student as well as a dedicated Quidditch player. He goes on to play as a reserve chaser for the Appleby Arrows.”

Ursula knew that Vanessa still hadn’t decided whether or not she wanted to have Healer training, so when, “Vanessa Shafiq!” was called, she wondered what Vanessa’s career would be announced as.

“A Slytherin, Ms. Shafiq is a charming, loyal, and invested witch. She has been accepted into the Trainee Program at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.”

Vanessa looked pleased with the slightly ambiguous announcement. Her ambition was to get married and have a family, and whether she chose to get Healer training or not, her goal still mattered.

With only five students after him to go, including Fred and George, Professor McGonagall called, “Cassius Warrington!” and the first thing Cassius did when he stood up was flex, earning him a cheer from his fellow students. Gay or not, he was one of the most attractive students in their year, not to mention the most muscular.

“A Slytherin, Mr. Warrington is unfailingly loyal, and is a bright and outgoing student,” said Professor McGonagall with a hint of exasperation in her voice. “He goes on to work as a Hit Wizard and as an assistant to Corban Yaxley in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Once Cassius had taken his seat, Professor McGonagall called, “Fred Weasley!” and Fred sauntered up to the stage, wearing his signature slightly lopsided grin.

“A Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley is determined and ambitious, as well as one of the most mischievous students to ever attend Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall, garnering a cheer with the last line. “He has earned a spot on the list of most detentions ever given, something he himself has admitted to being proud of. He goes on to run Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.”

Fred high fived George as he sat back down and Professor McGonagall gave a similar spiel about George. Then there were only three Slytherins, Daria West, Sophie White, and Alexander Yorke, left, before all of the diplomas had been handed out. Professor McGonagall asked for another round of applause for the graduates before she was replaced at the podium by Professor Dumbledore.

“Eager though I know you all are to be done here, I ask for just a few more moments of your time,” said Professor Dumbledore. “This year’s graduating class has given more to this school, both in trials and achievements, than any I have seen for many years. Therefore, I have just a few words to say to you all. Those words are: flame, fly, flux, and flair.”

He paused a moment to let his words sink in, although that only left his audience more time to grow confused as to what he meant.

“I now present the Class of 1996 as Hogwarts graduates,” said Professor Dumbledore, and the entire Hall jumped to their feet, sending raucous cheers ringing towards the arched ceiling as golden confetti burst over the crowd.

Ursula went straight to her father and Tony, giving them both a hug. Her father produced a large bouquet of flowers as a gift.

“Oh, my darling, you were marvelous!” said Ken. “Congratulations!”

“That was a wonderful speech you gave,” agreed Tony, who could not stop staring at all the magic around him. For the Muggles in the crowd, Professor Dumbledore had selectively lifted the enchantments surrounding Hogwarts just for their eyes. “God, this place is amazing.”

“I’m so glad you both could come!” said Ursula.

“What, you thought we were going to miss this? Not a chance!” said Ken, who looked a bit teary although he was grinning from ear to ear. “Though I must say, it’s hard to believe that you’re an adult now. It seems like just yesterday I was holding you for the first time.”

“I wish Mum was here,” said Ursula quietly.

“I know, little one,” said Ken. “But she’s watching over you.”

Andromeda, Ted, and Tonks came over, winding their way through the crowd. Ursula’s cousin reached her first and gave her an excited hug.

“It’s good to see you!” said Tonks. She looked fully recovered from her time in St. Mungo’s, which Ursula was glad to see. Ursula hugged her aunt and uncle as well, before shaking hands with Sirius and Remus, who had wormed their way over.

“It’s good to be back at Hogwarts,” said Sirius appreciatively.

“How’s freedom treating you?” asked Ursula.

“Terrible,” supplied Remus. “I keep having to talk him out of going into shops to try to scare Muggles.”

Ursula giggled.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to her family. “I should go see Hadrian and Aunt Narcissa.”

They all nodded, though Sirius frowned. Narcissa and Draco were all the way across the hall, in a knot of fellow purebloods. Hadrian was nearby, chatting for the moment with Cassius. Ursula headed for her aunt first, but she was stopped by Fred, who emerged out of the thick crowd as she passed.

“Well done out there, Black,” said Fred. “You made a great Head Girl.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” replied Ursula, grinning shyly. “I guess business is going well?”

“Extremely,” said Fred. “I can’t thank you enough for selling us the building.”

“I was more than happy to,” Ursula reminded him. “I assume you came to see Lee and Rue?”

“Yes.” Fred looked down and shuffled his feet. “And Angelina, and Alicia, and… you.”

“Oh?” Ursula fought a blush and ducked her head shyly, fingering the pearls around her neck. “And why is that?”

“I was wondering… well, I hoped… what I mean is…”

Fred trailed off, blushing like mad.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at a loss for words,” said Ursula. Fred laughed. “Go on.”

“Ursula… will you go on a date with me?”

“I would love to, Fred,” answered Ursula, her own blush creeping onto her face. Fred’s lopsided, anxious smile was replaced by his familiar grin that stretched from ear to ear. “Let me know when, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” said Fred, beaming. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” said Ursula.

She was still grinning when she reached Narcissa, but as this was _her_ graduation her aunt would never know why.

“Congratulations, Ursula dear,” said Narcissa, giving her a light hug. “That was an excellent speech you gave.”

Ursula could see from her aunt’s stiff posture that something was amiss, something more than Lucius being in Azkaban, but now was not the time or place to ask. She spent a few minutes more with Narcissa, then went over to Hadrian for appearances, and finally stole Cassius away and took him and Lilian — who had gotten to meet her new boss, Arthur Weasley — back to meet her parents.

Soon the rest of her friends had wandered over, plus Cassius and Lilian’s, and it seemed they all got along marvelously. Lilian’s dad got on great with Ken and Tony, and her mother got a kick out of meeting Sirius Black. Lilian pulled out her camera, and soon their parents and relatives were snapping away. They took pictures until lights danced in Ursula’s eyes.

Over the din of celebration, Professor Dumbledore announced, “If the graduates would please follow Hagrid!”

Ursula hugged her family one more time, promising to visit them all soon, and headed with her friends towards the doors. She stopped briefly when she saw that Fred and George weren’t moving.

“Come on,” she said to them. “You’re graduates, aren’t you? You can’t think you’ll get out of crossing the lake with the rest of us.”

“She’s right,” said Rue, appearing at George’s elbow with Lee on her heels.

Fred and George relented easily and Ursula rejoined her friends. Once they were all assembled by the doors to the Great Hall, the assembled guests cheered a final time.

“Follow me!” said Hagrid in his booming voice, and he led them out of the hall, out of the castle, and down to where they had first arrived in boats much too small for them now. “Four to a boat!”

“Will we even fit?” said Lilian, laughing and trying not to lose her balance as Adrian helped her in the boat. She, Ursula, Cassius, and Adrian managed to just barely cram into one. All around them, their fellow graduates were having similar difficulties, with no less than two students losing their balance and ending up in the Black Lake, although it did nothing to dim their spirits.

The rest of the school, gathered high above, cheered as the boats passed, and the recently graduated students wave back. Fred and George both gave exaggerated bows to the delight of the students above, although they nearly tipped the boat they shared with Lee and Rue.

When they reached shore, Hagrid led them back up the very same steep path they had first come down on, although it was nowhere near as long or as frightening in broad daylight. They soon reached Hogsmeade Station, where the Hogwarts Express waited to take them home.

“Goodbye Hogwarts!” said Ursula, waving towards the castle. Her friends all laughed and said their goodbyes as well, before they located their pets and luggage and hauled it onto the train and into their usual compartment.

The ride back to London seemed shorter than usual, or maybe it was that the graduates didn’t want to admit that their time at Hogwarts was finally over. Ursula patrolled the corridors of the train a final time, eventually coming across Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all week to get their revenge on Harry without teachers seeing and who had clearly been on the losing side of the DA when they did. Half tempted to leave them fully jinxed, Ursula removed about half the jinxes on each of them to teach them a lesson.

When the trolley came by, they loaded up on sweets, swapping chocolate frog cards and trying Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor beans until the green countryside and rolling hills had been replaced by townhouses and busy streets.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross Station, Ursula and the others realized that this was the last time they would be at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for themselves.

“How do you feel?” asked Adrian, as they unloaded their trunks and owls and cats. “I’m not ready.”

“Bloody terrified,” said Cassius. “But there’s no turning back now.”

“A part of me wishes there was,” said Vanessa.

“Promise me you’ll write,” said Lilian. “All of you. And that we’ll still see each other, and —”

“I promise,” said Ursula. “We won’t lose touch, I promise. We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” said Cassius. “We are.”

“We won’t lose touch,” repeated Gemma. “You can be sure of that.”

“Should we… should we go through the barrier together?” said Ursula, her heart hammering.

“Yeah,” said Adrian, looking just as nervous as Urusla felt. “Yeah, let’s go together.”

The six friends linked arms, holding tight to one another as they passed through the barrier into their brand new adult lives.


End file.
